


I've heard the oncoming storm (and it's close)

by Lotuslia



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, M/M, Multi, i am elven trash so this will involve a lot of elven side characters who get no screentime normally, this is my first longfic pls be kind
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:14:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 41,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23333692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lotuslia/pseuds/Lotuslia
Summary: Astra Lavellan, the First of clan Lavellan, enters the Conclave as a spy with two of his clanmates. He wakes up alone, confused and with a green mark on his hand, blamed for the explosion at the temple. Unable to return home to his family (and child), he must fix the rift in the sky before it kills him instead.Lots more elven shenanigans and many minor characters get their long-lost screentime.Basically just a retelling of DAI with extras tossed in for flavor, and a lot of canon decisions thrown out the window.Credit to FenxShiral for some of the elvhen phrases in this fic.
Relationships: Male Lavellan/Dorian Pavus, ex male lavellan/original character
Comments: 5
Kudos: 11





	1. Prelude

**Author's Note:**

> This is not strictly canon but follows the rough outline of DAI. Just with some extras I wanted to add in.  
> I've got snippets written across the story, but it will take a while longer to fill the spaces into full chapters. So this might be a longer project. I do aim to go all the way to Trespasser though, other DLC's included.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some background stuff with a few members of Clan Lavellan, giving a little prelude to Astra's journey to Haven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this fic, dalish is a speakable language, a modern dialect of elvhen, though very different as its changed along the centuries. Dalish elves usually know both it and common fairly fluently, depending on how much they come into contact with others outside the clan. Clan Lavellan is fairly close to outside influences, especially with many city-elf joinees amongst their numbers.

” _Mamala._ " The elven man called out with a familiar and warm voice as he set the point of his staff on the ground, allowing him to lean his weight on it.

The elderly elven woman hummed a little tune in response, but made no motion to show she was truly listening. It seemed more important to busy her hands with the little elven child’s hair, slowly and carefully braiding it into a twin fishtail, while the little one sat happily on her lap eating fruit. This was a familiar routine to them both. While the child’s mother was busy feeding the family’s most recent addition in the morning, and the father was keeping the older siblings and their friends busy with crafts and stories, the second-youngest found her way to the Keeper’s care, asking yet again for the pretty braids into her hair.

A piece of apple could satisfy a tiny dalish child's focus for a long time, the keeper knew this from the experience of raising her own children, long ago. Now they were adults, with their own children, who were grown as well.

"Deshanna _._ " His tone now louder out of frustration, there was a slight desperation in the elven man's voice as he leaned forward, holding onto his staff to keep his balance.

Attention shifting from her apple piece to the familiar voice, the little child squirmed to see him with a curious smile, forcing the older woman to quickly pick up the unfinished braid from her shoulder, else it came apart. The apple piece was quick to be forgotten, and fell onto the ground without a sound as little fingers were distracted from it.

"Yes, _mir'da'len_. What troubles you?" Her expression said she knew why he'd come, though she gave him a chance to say it for himself. It was her way of putting people at ease, but also making them admit whatever they had in mind right in the beginning of the conversation. She was a patient woman but as she often said, she was too old for circling around topics like a cat circling a bowl of porridge.

Arms folded, Clan Lavellan’s first apprentice set his staff on the ground and sank down to sit beside the older woman. Astra had left yesterday's meeting with the hahrens looking relatively uncomfortable, and looked to be deep in thought ever since. Deshanna felt glad he had finally found his words and courage to come to her with his worries. 

Deshanna Istimaethoriel Lavellan, the clan's keeper, was an elderly elven woman with long silvery grey hair tied into a large braid entwined loosely with a pale leather rope-like ribbon. Her face was tattooed with the vallaslin of Falon’din, continued onto her arms in detailed lines of reddish purple, and as a mark of a Keeper she wore a detailed outfit decorated with green and red hued leathers and large amounts of embroidery. Beside her, an ornate pale deerhorn staff rested at an arm's reach. 

Astra's looks matched hers to an extent. Some were on purpose, like his black hair in a similar braid, though he wore his with the sides cut short and simply tied off at the bottom, rather than with Deshanna's choice of delicate leathers. His face was decorated with Sylaise’s dark red vallaslin, which continued down his arms and back, circles of entwined curves reaching all the way to his fingers. His outfit was a simpler version of hers, and more lightly embroidered. He had also mixed and matched some pieces to allow for better movement, allowing him to be more mobile when joining his siblings on a hunt or taking part in the general activities the children of clan Lavellan always tried to drag him into.

Otherwise the two looked similar in build and face, helping anyone within the clan tell they were related.

A deep breath, and pause in the moment, Astra glanced up towards the sky. "...Are you really sure it’s fine to send me to the Conclave?” It was barely a sigh, nerves surfacing into his voice, making it shake a little as it gained strength. "I don't trust the chantry. How can the _hahrens_ , how can _you_ be so sure they won't find me out? I’ve never been outside the clan."

Deshanna glanced at her grandson with a raised eyebrow as she continued braiding the little child’s hair. From the corner of her eye, seeing Astra’s lingering habit of lightly wringing his left wrist made her smile. She remembered him doing the same as a child, palm tightly on his wrist whenever he tried to lie or get out of something that was making him nervous. She placed her fingers on top of his now, making Astra glance down with a little sound of embarrassed surprise as he separated his hands to his sides, leaning on them instead.

“Of course I’m not going alone, it just seems dangerous." In his opinion, the entire conclave seemed dangerous, who thought bringing so many mages and templars, AND the chantry together would be a good idea? "What if something happens? I’m not exactly going in with an invite.” Astra noticed the little child still staring eagerly at him, oblivious to his worries, and he couldn't help but give a little nervous smile as response to her toothy grin.

The smile did little to settle his racing thoughts. “Wouldn’t one of our hunters be better at going in unnoticed? Like Tedea, she’s amazing at stealth.” That was a terrible excuse, and he knew it. Even Deshanna raised an amused eyebrow at his attempt.

A resigned sigh followed his fading smile as he watched the Keeper wave aside his doubts. Instead the old woman shook her head and tugged Astra closer to her side with one tan, intricately tattooed arm, giving him a moment to breathe out the stress and sink into the embrace. He reached to hold one of the child’s unfinished braids for her, while she placed her palm on the side of his head, fingers disappearing into his hair. He laid his head against the older woman’s shoulder and closed his eyes, a signal of giving up all arguments, despite the lingering nerves in his mind. This was familiar, and warm, and he knew he would miss his family terribly during the long journey.

“I know you are nervous, my _da'vhen_ , but we must know how this talk will affect us and all the other clans in Thedas.” She ran her hand through his hair lightly, receiving a content sigh in response as he relaxed. “The next Arlathvhen is not far off, and someone must gather news of this conflict. We need a mage to enter the event so they can blend with the rebel mages, and you are our most suited for posturing if-“

Astra interrupted her with a snort of laughter. “That’s rude, _mamala_. I don’t posture.”

“Now, _da'len,_ stop laughing, that is not what I meant at all.” She flicked his temples with a light finger and gave a halfhearted sigh of exasperation, even as the edges of her mouth tried to tug upwards at his sound of surprise. The child in her arms giggled, before reaching down for her apple piece again, suddenly remembering its existence.

Looking towards the main campsite, where the clan was in the midst of their daily tasks of cooking, crafting, playing with the children, and more, she continued with a quieter voice, a fondness in her tone. “You know our tales, culture and our magic through a lifetime of learning, so you should be the one to represent us, if you are discovered. You don't consider yourself a fighter, I know this, but you have a quick mind for magic, should the worst come to be.”

Astra felt her move to squeeze his side a little as he listened, and reached his free hand to the small child’s excited grasp. It was cute how curious little fingers examined the dark red tattoos on the back of his hand, disappearing under the brown leather gauntlets he wore over his sleeves. As the clan's first apprentice for the keeper, he'd asked for an extended vallaslin, reaching from his face to his shoulders, arms and back.

“Alright. You have a point. It’s just, I don’t trust the Chantry's people or the other _shems_ to be civil, so I hate bringing our clan into it.” Astra scoffed, making no secret of his distaste. 

Moving up to sit again as he removed himself from the Keeper’s side, he watched a familiar, soft and round-faced hunter walk towards them, beelining to the small child to crouch down to cup her face in rough but warm palms and a smile. His exclamation of "Hi, Mirene!" received a happy giggle from her, and he dropped down to sit on Astra’s left side, tossing an arm over his shoulders. Astra felt a little like a bag being tossed around, as a strong arm pulled him against his brother's side. But it was familiar and cozy, he didn't mind in the slightest. He’d grown very tactile in the clan, and this was comfortable. Keeper Deshanna smiled at her older grandson with a fond look.

"Heard you’re still trying to get out of the conclave shift. I can't believe you haven't gotten bored of worrying yet. You’ll be fine." The older, yet smaller elven man sighed out a very theatric breath. "Andri already agreed with me, by the way. It’s just a peace talks, you’re not going to make any speeches anyway."

Being the younger sibling had its perks, but it also meant your older siblings knew you a little bit too well for comfort. Or thought they did, at least. That part was still up for debate between them. Either way, Yuni had five years on him and used that to relentlessly tease his younger brother whenever possible.

"Oh, shut up, nobody asked you." Astra mumbled with an exasperated smile, reaching out to shove an elbow at his brother's side only to receive a strangled noise and a tighter hold of the arm around him. Yuni was a hunter for the clan, while Astra was a mage who spent most of his time studying and learning. The difference in their strengths was easy to see. The older of the brothers was kind, however, and always handled people with care.

Well, might as well return to the topic at hand, maybe a miracle would happen and Yuni would take his side on the argument. As unlikely as that was, the smaller man did have a soft spot for his siblings. “Even if it’s just me, if they find me out, they’ll target the clan. And then I won’t be here to help, and I feel awful leaving Nava...” He trailed off, sighing as he felt the arm around him shift in sympathy.

“The clan will help Rivra with the girl until you come back. She is among the family, there is no safer place for her.” Deshanna consoled him, while Yuni nodded in agreement. 

“Right. It’s not like you’re just throwing her to the wolves, you worrier. We’ll help Rivra out.”

Astra nodded, seeming to set into a decision, and turned to face the side of the campsite, his eyes moving over the supplies he would take tomorrow morning. He was to move out with two hunters from the clan, Ellor and Maers, who would make sure they stayed safe and unseen until they reached the Temple of Sacred Ashes. 

“Alright, fine. You win. I’ll just listen to the _hahrens_ and go, and then kick your ass when I come back if it went badly." Astra groaned at his brother and ran a hand across his face, already feeling more tired just from the thought of traveling nearly alone for so long. He didn’t mind the early mornings, but being away from his people was making him nervous.

\---

Well, so he said, but in the end he was woken up at the crack of dawn by Maers, wishing he could just stay in the aravel forever. Astra rubbed his eyes trying desperately to wake up, as he listened to the tall redheaded hunter’s laughter. Yuni and Andri were both sprawled beside him, still fully asleep, while Nava was sleeping in another aravel with her mother, so he could avoid waking the little girl up. She was used to switching between her parents’ aravels, but it had been a bit more difficult to get her to Rivra’s this time, as the child knew he was leaving for a long while. Astra had lent his bracelet to her to keep while he was away, to placate her sadness for a little bit.

Astra could hear Ellor, the smaller blonde hunter moving right outside the aravel before she too peeked her head into the small space, giggling quietly at their sleepy, bedheaded first. 

"Time to start moving, lazyass." She whispered, doing her best not to wake up anyone in nearby aravels. The clan was accustomed to waking up early with the sun, but this was early even for them. Yuni stretched in his sleep, hand coming to rest close to Astra’s, and he paused to grasp and squeeze his sleeping brother’s palm as a quick farewell, with a quick mumbled “see you”. Hopefully his leave would only be a temporary one.

Turning back to Ellor, he yawned and climbed out of the aravel to grab his travel bag and said his farewells to the Keeper, who was awake to see them off. With quiet chatter, the trio of elves began by foot to the Wycome docks to catch a boat to Ferelden. The three of them got along well, despite not being the same age, meaning they had not grown up together. They had spent time on shared hunts with Astra’s siblings to know each other fairly well, and found them pleasant company. The journey was filled with light banter and deep discussions, even though they were all fairly nervous about the Conclave. Fortunately the event itself would only last a few days.

After a long journey over the sea, despite the occasional seasickness from various members of the trio, they made it to Highever. By foot again, they joined trader caravans where possible, to move faster and trade for supplies on the way. To everyone’s relief, they reached the Temple of Sacred Ashes on the first day of the meetings between chantry members and the two warring factions. The two hunters had only changed clothes to fit in better, but Astra, needing to blend in with the rebel mages, had also covered his vallaslin to his best ability, alongside some more general traveling clothes, to raise less suspicion. The makeup itched as it dried on his skin, and he was dying to get rid of it, but this was worth the discomfort.

“Let's meet outside the temple tonight, once the meetings are over." Astra smiled, holding out a hand. Since they were already on the temple grounds, he'd switched to the common tongue from the Dalish language that came more naturally to him. "Try not to get into trouble.”

Maers grabbed it and squeezed tightly, his expression tense and focused, as usual when he was doing something important. "You too, first. Try to blend in." Ellor followed suit, placing her palm on top of his. Maers grinned briefly, letting his focus fade momentarily from his face.

Astra laughed, squeezing their hands in return. "Of course. I don't plan to make a scene."

With that they separated, Ellor and Maers to go with the general masses and Astra with the rebel mages. It was truly fascinating to be in a historically important place such as this (even if it was not elvhen history), but at present he was more focused on trying to keep as far from the templars as possible, anxiety and an old fear arising at the sight of their armor. He moved quietly and unseen across the hallways, until a loud commotion caught his attention from a nearby doorway. Astra hoped he had finally found the mages, but dreaded whatever arguments managed to make such sounds.

He took a deep breath, opened the door, and-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mamala: Grandmother  
> Mir'da'len: my child  
> Da'vhen: little heart
> 
> I hope you enjoyed!


	2. Well, Bianca's excited!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astra wakes up in a cell, with a strange green mark on his hand and two scary women questioning him. Apparently the Conclave is gone, the sky is torn open, and he's the main suspect. Wait what? That can't be right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of fainting in these first chapters, that can't be healthy. Astra is not a happy camper.  
> I tried to follow the cutscenes somewhat, but I hope it's not too much of a carbon copy.

In the courtyard of the conclave, a tall dalish man fell from a burst of bright green energy, the rocks and rubble knocking his breath out as he landed. Oddly, the ground felt warmer than it had before, warming up his palms as he shakily pushed his upper body off the ground. Disoriented and with his heart pounding in his chest, Astra gasped to regain the lost air in his lungs. The inhale of breath overwhelmed him with brimstone and smoke, and he coughed harshly.

_ What’s going on? _

Astra’s right ear rang loudly, an echo of the noise he had learned to live with ever since a wild cast of his own thunder burst his eardrum, almost a decade ago. Something was sparking bright green into his vision, blinding him, and to his dismay bringing a palm up to his face to shield his eyes somehow made it worse. Nausea rose up to his chest with the brightness and the ringing, causing his head to swim, and Astra felt his vision swirl wildly as he tried to gather his bearings, to no avail. He thought momentarily of his traveling companions, fearful without them, but was quickly distracted by the dark edges of his vision taking over. He released a shuddering breath, gently lowering his forehead to the ground as he let out shallow huffs of air. 

He heard muffled footsteps and yelling, but they grew faint as his focus dropped like a stone into the void that was currently taking over his sight. Only seconds later, his arm gave out under him, and he passed out on the rocky ground, the green rift crackling closed behind him.

\---

When Astra woke it was chilly, a draft running across the cold stone ground under him. As he slowly returned to awareness, he had the sense not to open his eyes right away. He waited and listened, imagined himself on a hunt with his clanmates, quiet and still. He thought back to his brother’s voice, to a warm hand on his shoulder, teaching him to track,  _ “Remember Vir Assan, brother - the way of the arrow. Be swift and silent, calm your mind and be alert” _ . He’s not home in the Northern plains now, but thinking of the familiar words helped calm his racing heart. With deep, even breaths, he let the fear wash over and past him, giving him enough stability to think straight.

He was on his knees on a hard floor, and felt ropes tied tightly around his wrists and ankles, holding each together. As he tried to remember past the events of his entrance into the conclave, a persistent migraine began to build, the sharp ache making his breath quicken, and he thought it best to stop. Whatever had happened, he couldn't remember. Without seeing his surroundings, Astra guessed he was likely in a cell within the temple of the Sacred Ashes, caught by the chantry members.

Hopefully Ellor and Maers wouldn't get reckless looking for him and get themselves in trouble. It was bad enough that one of them was sitting in a chantry cell.

Oh, who was he kidding, they were exactly the kinds of people to already be sitting in the other cells beside him. Especially Ellor, whom Astra knew from experience to be the last to sit and wait when trouble arose. The blonde hunter held more stubbornness and energy in her than he would have thought safe for one person. Somehow, even just knowing his companions might be nearby made him feel less afraid, and he was able to breathe deeply again, steadying his nerves. They would be alright.

A sharp tug of something almost electric in his palm startled him enough to open his eyes, just in time to manage a quick look around the cell before the outer door opened, letting in the winter light and a little bit of snowfall. Astra squinted in the sudden light for a moment and watched as two people entered: A tall woman with short red hair and a long chainmail robe came to a stop near the door, while a sturdier-looking woman with hardy-looking armor, short dark hair and a scar on her cheek was quickly approaching, palms balled into fists and a tense look on her face.

Astra wanted to back away from her and run to avoid being questioned for whatever they thought he had done, but he knew that was a terrible plan, even if his ankles weren’t tied together. If there was nothing else he had learned from his city-cousins who had joined the clan, it was that humans were proud people who hated being ignored, and more, hated it when someone ran from their judgement. So instead, he kept his face as level as he could, and allowed only a simple glare through. Tied up or not, he would not show weakness to the shems, or to the chantry. He was raised better than that, even if he knew his clan was more friendly with them than most.

The dark-haired woman paced around him looking serious and angry, a hint of concealed hurt on her face that was mirrored on the other woman’s features. She leaned down over his right shoulder, grabbing hold of it roughly from the back and growled something low into his ear. To Astra’s despair, the anxiety and headache already pulsing in his head added to the difficulty of hearing with his damaged ear. It was enough interference for him to only catch fragments of what she was saying, dread rising in his chest. 

He tried to turn to catch the rest of what she was saying, and reflexively lifted his tied arms to balance himself in the movement. Unfortunately, she seemed to take his squirming as an attempt to run or attack, and jolted to push him forward roughly by the shoulder, receiving a startled and choked noise from the elf now doubled over under her arm. 

"What are you doing?!" She snapped, thankfully loudly enough this time. 

"I-" he gasped, trying to keep his nerves in control as he reflexively curled up despite her still grasping onto the shoulder of his coat. "I couldn't hear you." He averted his eyes and slowly, warily reached his fingers up to move aside his now loose hair, to reveal the side of his head, openly showing the small scars crossed over each other, running from his cheekbone to the tip of his ear. 

The woman made a frustrated noise low in her throat as he let the hair fall and shifted to his front, clearly low on patience. “As I was saying. Is there any reason we should not just kill you now?” Her dark eyes were glued on his, while her fingers grasped roughly into the front of his coat. Astra stayed quiet and turned aside, a grimace on his face. Damn it! Had he not found the rebel mages on time and been caught, or had he angered the templars or the chantry somehow?  _ Why couldn’t he remember? _ A wince crossed his features as he tried to think back. If only he could talk to Ellor and Maers somehow.

The woman ignored his silence, shaking him back into alertness and threw out all his hopes in a few short sentences, her voice shaking with emotion. “Don't pretend to not hear me! The conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead-” 

His head snapped up in shock. “W-what?” He squeaked, voice weaker than he had hoped.

“-Except for you. A dalish elf with covered up tattoos and no invite.” She gave him a pointed look, which he couldn’t help but stare blankly in shock at. “Surely you can imagine why we are suspicious,” she spat out with disgust and sarcasm in her voice. Still in shock, Astra couldn’t bring himself to find any good response, and instead brought his tied hands up to wipe at his face. Looking at his fingertips with nothing smeared on them, he saw the makeup had been washed off, revealing the dark red vallaslin of Sylaise again. Well then. At least he didn’t have to hide them anymore.

“Who are you? A spy hired to ruin the peace talks?” The woman pressed on, having still received next to nothing in response from Astra, who was still deep within his racing thoughts.

The conclave was gone, as were its people. That meant Ellor and Maers were dead, and he was-. 

Oh. He felt ill.

Astra took a deep breath, shaky as it was, and glanced at the redheaded woman further away, receiving nothing but a stern look. Blowing out the breath he was holding, he failed to stop the dread filling his chest, and while his head was still held high out of habit, his eyes stared down at the floor awkwardly. “…You think I destroyed the conclave.” He mumbled, the situation dawning fully on him now. That’s why he was here, in a cell. He was the only survivor, and thus, the only suspect.

The dark-haired woman grabbed his arm and lifted it up. “And why shouldn't we? Explain this.” 

He was ready to bare his teeth and snarl at the  _ shem _ to back off but managed only a short glare, interrupted as his palm crackled with luminescent green energy, startling him. It ran a sharp, nerve-pulling jolt through his arm and into his shoulder before dissipating, leaving Astra startled, gasping lightly at the sensation. 

“I- I don’t know what that is. I don’t know how it-“ He stuttered out hastily, all steadiness gone from his voice, giving way to a steadily rising panic. That felt nothing like his magic,  _ what in Mythal’s name was that?  _ Before he could make any sense of the sudden energy, the dark-haired woman growled and swooped down, grabbing him by both shoulders and pushing him backwards, nearly making his heart jump out of his chest as he squeezed his eyes shut and prepared for pain that never came.

“You’re lying!” She yelled in frustration, before the redheaded woman finally stepped forward and pulled her back, forcing her to release Astra from her grasp. He fell back and awkwardly caught his balance on his elbows, arms still tied together, wheezing out a frightened breath as his eyes stayed glued onto the dark-haired woman. 

“Cassandra! We need him,” the redheaded woman consoled her. Oh, how promising. That really gave him hope for the day.

“I don't know what happened!” He hissed at the women, anxiety and anger overwhelming him as he pushed himself properly back up “I’m just as confused as you are!” 

The redheaded woman sighed and stepped closer to him, kneeling down to his eye level with a serious expression, yet her eyes held a hint of softness he hadn’t seen a moment ago. “I think we should start over. Some introductions might do us good.” She waited for him to give a small hesitant nod. “I am Leliana, and this is Cassandra. We work for the Divine. Who are you, and what were you doing at the conclave?”

Astra took a deep breath to keep from reflexively lashing out at her close proximity and blinked, pausing to clear his thoughts. Deciding it was best not to enclose his clan’s name to these people just yet, he began, “…My name is Astra. I am the first of my clan, the keeper’s apprentice. Our keeper sent myself and two of our hunters to observe the peace talks, so we could bring back information on how  _ shemlen _ politics would affect us and other clans on Thedas. I wasn’t- I didn’t plan to get involved, I didn’t plan  _ this _ , whatever it is.” He shook his hand a little, frowning as he watched the strange green glow coming from it.

“What can you remember?” Leliana asked, far more gently now, yet in her own way just as intimidating as the other woman – Cassandra. 

“I remember entering the conclave. I separated from my clanmates to stay out of sight. I was looking for the mages to blend in with them… I don’t know what happened after that, but the next thing I remember, I-" he paused, some memories flowing back. "I was running, s-something was chasing me. And-“ He paused, looking at nothing in particular as he tried to piece the images together. “A woman?” He almost breathed out the word, unsure.

“…A woman?” The redhead echoed his words, looking curious.

He shook his head, the earlier headache returning as he tried to remember. “She… reached out to me, but then-“ He paused, his memory coming to a halt. With a sigh, he let his head rest down and gave up on trying to chase the pieces. He couldn’t speak his way out of this, not with mere fragments of what had happened. To his surprise, however, both women seemed intrigued enough to stop the questioning for now, and began to speak amongst themselves, quietly at first. Too quietly for him to catch the words, likely on purpose now that they knew of his trouble hearing.

“Go to the forward camp, Leliana.” Cassandra said after a moment of quiet whispers. “I will take him to the rift.” 

Astra wasn’t sure what that meant, perhaps he wasn’t at the temple anymore after all? Leliana nodded and turned to leave, while Cassandra returned to Astra’s side and kneeled to undo the ropes on his ankles so he could stand. He found to his disappointment that the ropes around his wrists stayed untouched, but bit his cheek to keep the spiteful comment inside his head. It would do him no good to needlessly rile her up.

“What actually happened?” He asked her, his expression and voice finally showing the tiredness in him. Her only answer at first was a sigh, until she stood up holding out her hand for him, which he grabbed with a healthy dose of suspicion but gratefully nonetheless. His legs felt numb from sitting on the stone ground for so long, and he stumbled slightly at first.

“It will be easier to show you. Come.”

He followed her out past the two guards at the door, and for a moment thought there was something wrong with his eyes. Everything was tinted a pale green, the color becoming sharper and more intense as his gaze panned up to the clouds. Cassandra had spoken of a rift, and now that he saw this tear in the sky, he could truly understand the seriousness of the situation. Astra watched it in a daze, recognizing the green hue of the beyond, as his people called it. He had seen it before in his dreams of course, being a mage, but he had never seen the vibrant green energy while awake. It was beautiful, but in a way that didn’t belong in the waking world.

He found he could not take his eyes off the rift until Cassandra spoke again, her expression unhappy in contrast with his awed one. “We call it the Breach. It is a massive rift into the world of demons that grows larger with each passing hour.” She turned to him, a rare hint of fear in her eyes sobering him up some. “It’s not the only such rift. Just the largest. All were caused by the explosion at the conclave.”

Astra turned his gaze from the rift back to her, his awed expression shifting to concern. “That came from an explosion?” He couldn’t believe it, surely the fade was not so easily torn into. What could do that to the sky? Even with everything he knew mages capable of, this was  _ big. _

“This one did. Unless we act, it may grow until it swallows the world.” She replied, glaring still at him, clearly still suspecting his guilt. He shuddered at the implication, the rift suddenly feeling much less beautiful and much more frightening. Astra stole one last glance of it, as if trying to see deep into the rift and past it, into the beyond. He wondered if the people back home could see it too, on the horizon. He wondered if Ellor and Maers had made it safely to the other side of it, without guidance from their clanmates.

“You think it-?” he started, but the breach crackled and ripped open wider before he could finish his thought, the loud roar of the sky covering up whatever he was going to say. His palm burned like fire in response, crackling bright green again, sending his nerves on fire and his knees weak under his weight. He couldn’t help but yell out as he tried tugging and twisting his hand out of the ropes somehow to stop the pain. Unfortunately the rope was tight, making such a feat difficult. In the end he simply held his palms close to his chest, as he doubled over on his knees and waited for the pulsing sparks to dissipate once again, his breaths coming in sharp, shallow wheezes. 

Once he was able to focus on his surroundings again, Astra saw Cassandra lean down to pull him back onto his feet, showing a surprising amount of care as she patted him on the shoulder afterwards, though her frown told a less pleasant story. Her tone confirmed his fears. 

“Each time the breach expands, your mark spreads. And it is killing you.” Lovely. This is exactly what he needed. Astra blinked solemnly with his eyes cast towards the ground, and huffed out a frustrated sigh, desperate to wake up and see this all be just a bad dream. Was he truly going to die here, a suspect of a crime he’s pretty sure he did not commit, and a continent away from his family? The thought frightened him, as he thought back to the Keeper, his siblings and his daughter receiving a letter, or more likely not receiving any word at all of his, Ellor and Maers’ fates.

“It may be the key to stopping this, but there isn’t much time. We must reach the temple soon.” She continued, and Astra sighed once more before raising his gaze up from the snowy ground, balling his palm into a frustrated fist.

“So you think this mark opened the breach, and it can also close it? You still think I did this to myself?” He replied angrily, lifting his arm up towards her. Who the hell would do this to themselves? Besides, even though he was a relatively strong mage within the perimeter of his clan (which, he belatedly realized, amounted to no more than four mages right now), he came nowhere close to being able to rip the creators-damned sky open.

She scoffed, “Not intentionally. Clearly something went wrong. But you are, right now, our only suspect.”

He closed his eyes, making a frustrated face at her as he thought for a moment. “Fine. It’s clear you wouldn’t give me a choice either way, and I’d rather keep my life, so I’ll try to help.”

Cassandra glared at him in response, sighing tiredly. “None of us has a choice.”

By Sylaise, he was about to lose his patience with this woman before they made halfway to the temple.

\---

Winter had never quite hit the northern Free Marches the same it did here, on the mountainside. Astra was relieved he had been provided warmer clothes by whoever had brought him to the cell, because he was surely not made for such chill. In the past he’d been fondly compared to a little lizard by clanmates who found it amusing how he shied away from the cold, hiding inside the aravels during colder days, only emerging covered in a thick blanket, if at all. He’d trade this freezing snowfall to any of the colder days he’d lived through in the Marches in a blink of an eye now. At least he was busy enough now to not dwell on the cold too much, and perhaps later he could spare a moment to marvel at the puffs of visible air that every exhale brought out.

The walk to the gates was short, but of course Cassandra led him to take the most public road, under everyone’s noses. At least she finally cut the ropes on his wrists, promising him a trial once all this was over.  _ If he was still alive _ , he added quietly in his mind. Nonetheless, it was better than nothing. Being able to use his hands again was a perk for sure, but being led through lines of sneering  _ shemlen _ was not exactly his favorite experience so far. 

Astra saw chantry priests preaching to a group of soldiers in the village and common people huddled outside tents and little wooden houses. The falling snow made the view of the breach even more eerie, making it difficult to keep his eyes off it as he followed Cassandra into the paths along the mountainside, past burning piles of wood and through groups of soldiers jogging back from the roads. He wasn’t sure how far this village was from the temple, but judging by the lack of any mounts, he assumed it was close by. 

Once again along the road, his palm began to burn. Astra stumbled and fell to a knee on the snow, curling over his arm, breathing harshly through his teeth despite the chill air. An unreachable sensation of sharpness enveloped his teeth, his nails, and resurfaced behind his eyes, making him shiver. It brought tears to his eyes, and he momentarily worried about breaking a tooth from clenching his jaw so hard. 

The interruption of the breach passed soon however, and he could breathe again, taking in a large gasp as soon as he could focus, and wiped his eyes swiftly, hoping Cassandra hadn’t noticed. She helped him up without a comment, thankfully. They needed to keep going, she explained and continued on ahead of him, along the snowy path and past supply boxes set alight by the falling bits of fade energy. The breach would continue growing and with it, more demons would fall through, wreaking havoc everywhere, especially among the common people with no means to protect themselves.

Turning left from a small gate, they were met with soldiers taking care of supplies on the small bridge, a few of whom passingly greeted them with nods and mutters of “Seeker.”, aimed at Cassandra, which she simply nodded to in response. Stepping across the stones, a shrill shout suddenly jolted both of them out of their thoughts, coming from a nearby soldier who was already running clear of the bridge, fear clear on his face. 

Looking to the side, Astra saw a ball of green energy falling towards them, his heart beginning to race as he stumbled back past Cassandra, reflexively shoving a soldier at his side further away from the middle of the bridge. The piece pummeled towards them through the air and crashed into the bridge, collapsing the stone with a loud crackle that covered up even the frightened sounds of the people on it, including his and Cassandra’s startled voices as they fell into the collapsing remains. Astra rolled down the rubble, landing roughly beside the Seeker just in time to see another orb of light fall towards them. It crashed on the ground, thankfully a little ways ahead, a dark creature left in its wake on the ground as the green faded away. A shade, if his memory of his studies kept true. Shit. Astra was not a fighter, nor did he think the woman would appreciate him using magic here, when he was already under suspicion.

“Stand back!” Cassandra seemed to have a grasp on the situation, fortunately, unsheathing her sword with ease and raising her shield to protect her body. Astra stayed behind as told, watching Cassandra run ahead on the icy ground to pummel down the demon. While it made him nervous to think of being on the other end of that sword, he had to admit her fighting was impressive. 

With a deep, relieved breath, he relaxed slightly knowing she could handle the fighting more than well enough. That was, until another shade formed between them in front of him, receiving a little yelp from the elven man. Astra backed away quickly in reflex, almost stumbling over fallen equipment, and glanced desperately towards Cassandra who was still busy with the first shade. Shit, shit, this was bad. 

Breath catching, he reached out a hand and threw a shield over himself, desperately trying to buy time as he spun his gaze around the fallen supplies, hoping beyond hope for something he could use to boost his magic. He didn’t  _ need _ a staff to produce magic, but it was easier to focus with one and he doubted these shades would be felled with weak, unfocused sparks. Right before he could panic too badly his eyes spotted a simple, lone wooden staff sticking out of a supply box. Astra whispered his thanks to as many of the Creators as he could manage in the time it took him to dive to grab the staff, before the shade dashed towards him, prompting another little yelp from him. 

Though the staff was made for ice magic, embarrassingly his weakest elemental skill to tap into, Astra could manage well enough with it in a pinch. A few good casts of lightning and fire alongside his half-successful attempts of freezing the creature were enough to get rid of the second shade. Meanwhile, Cassandra had finished hers off as well and turned her sword to Astra instead, his eyes widening in surprise before his face settled on a hostile frown. He held his staff in front of him, ready to cast a shield if needed, while desperately hoping against it. He just saw how well she fought in comparison to his own skills. 

“Drop your weapon. Now.” She held her stance, pointing the sword at him readily, her dark eyes set on his hands and the staff.

Regardless of the anxiety he felt from a sword pointed at his chest, Astra found himself bristling under her gaze, mouth pulling into a frustrated grimace. “I was defending myself! You don’t think the situation calls for some protection? You know I don’t need a weapon to be dangerous, anyway.” He growled, gripping his staff tighter, unwilling to let go of this little familiarity he could find. He was so tired of being driven into corners. 

She scoffed, growling back at him angrily. “Is that supposed to reassure me?”

“I could have used my magic on you, with or without a staff. But I haven’t.” Astra replied, nervously standing his ground even as her sword moved closer to his face. Frightened and confused as he was, he would not give in to this shem. He could not beat her in a fight, but she still needed him, and thus he probably had some leeway left for backtalk.

She made a disgusted noise and shook her head, lowered her sword and sheathed it. “You’re right. You need to be able to protect yourself.” She turned towards the path once again, but paused. “I’ll have to remember you did not try to run.” 

Relieved, Astra loosened his grip on the staff a little. If not a proper agreement, at least they had found a little truce for now, all things considered. With heavy steps he followed behind the Seeker once more, hoping to reach the forward camp soon, preferably with as few demons as possible.

Naturally however, his bad luck continued and they met more enemies on the way. Astra was not trained to physically fight, but he was a skilled mage personally trained by his clan’s Keeper, and he felt a lot more comfortable with his surroundings with a staff in hand. While Cassandra stayed close to the creatures with her sword, he cast lightning and fire from a distance, supporting her from afar. Only once did a shade get too close to him for comfort, and he came out of that encounter with a slight claw mark by his eye, and a slightly less composed state of mind. He had seen spirits before, and read about demons and the fade, but he had never fought them like this.

Soon they reached the sound of fighting and up the hill Astra saw another, smaller rift crackling and spewing out demons closer to the ground, with people fighting them at the remains of a destroyed building. Astra saw more soldiers, and curiously enough, a dwarf with a crossbow, and an elven mage throwing ice at the demons by his side, both focused firmly on the fight, deep frowns on their faces.

As he and the Seeker joined in the fray, the remaining demons fell quickly. As soon as Astra turned back to glance at the rift, still open beside the group, he felt someone grab his marked arm. Startled, he turned to defend himself but the other elven man had already lifted his palm up towards the rift. 

“Quickly, before more come through!” the man yelled, voice shaking slightly with nerves. With a gasp, Astra watched helplessly as the mark on his palm connected with the rift, pulling it to a close. It still hurt, but not nearly as badly as the bursts of light before.

The green energy faded without a mark left on the sky beside them, leaving Astra to stare at the spot in wonder and surprise as his arm was released from the other man’s grasp. He pulled it slowly close to his chest, blinking curiously. “...What did you do?” He hesitantly turned his gaze from the disappeared rift to the bald elven man. He did not look like a circle mage, nor did he wear dalish clothes, which confused him. An apostate, then? Astra was surprised the Seeker had not immediately jumped on the chance to capture him as a potential maleficar, and actually seemed to be somewhat familiar with the man.

“I did nothing. The credit is yours.” The strange man smiled at him, seemingly proud that the attempt had been worth it. The nervous tone of his voice was gone now, replaced by relief.

Astra glanced down at his palm, humming under his breath as he pressed it into a fist, bringing it close to his chest, determination setting in. “So this is good for something, after all.” The weight of fear that had been pressing on his chest all morning finally lightened some, allowing him to hope, perhaps, that this would end well.

“Yes, I suspect whatever created the rift also placed this mark upon you.” The elven man nodded sagely, motioning with his fingers towards the mark before bringing his hands together. “You may well hold the key to our salvation.” 

Astra looked up, looking baffled and mildly embarrassed by the wording, but he felt significantly less worried now. He was still in danger, still a suspect, but now he knew he could do something to help stop this. Maybe then he’d be able to recall what happened, and be listened to. It was a fragile hope, but he held onto it.

Having forgotten the presence of others, Astra startled as the dwarf sauntered up from behind him, crossbow still in hand, seeming happy that this problem was solved. He gave a small wave of greeting to the dalish man and set the crossbow onto his back, no longer needed. “The name’s Varric Tethras. Rogue, storyteller, and occasionally unwelcome tagalong,” he introduced himself, winking at Cassandra who only groaned frustratedly at him.

Astra’s eyes widened as he jolted slightly, recognising the name. Clan Lavellan rarely traded with humans of nearby cities in the Free Marches, but whenever they did, Varric's books had seemed to be in an endless supply (and well-liked by avid readers in the clan, Astra included). Of course he'd read many of them, especially the tales of the Champion. But why was the dwarf here?

“O-oh. Are you with the chantry?” Astra asked in a hurry, without really thinking about it. The elven man chuckled in response by his side, seeming amused.

“Technically, I’m a prisoner just like you.” The dwarf smirked, and in an instant Astra's apprehension towards his capturers grew, wondering why the hell they would keep the dwarven man a prisoner. He glanced at Cassandra, seemingly just on time, as she began to speak.

“I brought you here to tell your story to the Divine. Clearly that is no longer necessary.” Cassandra deadpanned, still staring disappointedly at Varric. 

“Yes, yes, explosions, a rift in the sky and all that, I know, Seeker. I don’t understand why you needed me there personally, though, you already heard the story yourself.” 

“I wanted her to see the chest hair with her own eyes.” She deadpanned, making Varric choke on a laugh. 

“Excuse me?”

“I mean, I wanted her to hear the story straight from your mouth. I knew she would want your help.” She sighed, shuffling her weight from one foot to another as she crossed her arms.

Despite the grim situation, the conversation, along with the appearance of these new people had slightly lightened Astra’s mood and he smiled slightly at the dwarf, who rolled his eyes at the Seeker, and the still unnamed elven man. “It’s good to have you here. I am Astra, um.” He paused, considering whether he dared give his full name. “Lavellan,” he added, a bit of strained desperation audible in his voice. He knew they would demand his clan's name eventually, and he felt somehow safer with two people here who, even if they weren’t necessarily on his side yet, seemed to not be working for the chantry, at least. 

“Nice to meet you, Grey. Me and Bianca will be happy to tag along.” He heard Cassandra make a slight noise, similar to her earlier groan of disapproval. It made Astra smile a little, as did the little nickname, referencing his dark grey hair.

“You named your crossbow Bianca?”

The dwarf only laughed at Astra’s curiosity, and pointed at his crossbow on his back. “Why not? We’ve been through a lot together.”

The tall elven man stepped forward to interrupt before Varric could get into too many details about his weapon of choice, and nodded his head in a simple greeting. “And my name is Solas, if there are to be introductions. I’m glad to see you yet live.” Confused, Astra tilted his head slightly and folded his arms, Varric taking the chance to speak again.

“He means “I kept that mark from killing you when you slept.””

Astra felt mildly embarrassed that these people had already met him while he was unconscious, but he was grateful they had helped him. “Really?  _ Thank you, then. I appreciate being alive.” _ He switched to the dalish language for a bit and smiled a little, giving a nod in return. Solas did not give much of a reaction to it though he seemed to understand, and simply turned to Cassandra once more, expression turning more serious as he gestured towards the broken sky.

“Seeker, while your prisoner is indeed a mage, I have trouble imagining any mage having enough power to cause this.”

She sighed. “Understood. Let us go, we must meet Leliana at the forward camp soon.” Astra watched their backs for a moment longer, unable to stop a little snort of laughter when Varric passed him with a proud grin. 

“Well, Bianca’s excited!”

\---

To Astra’s relief, they reached the forward camp soon after leaving the first rift, and to his surprise, they actually asked him for his opinion on how to proceed, regardless of the clergyman’s anger. 

He was able to hold his head a little higher from then on, less afraid to be put back into chains and against a sword again. Their new companions seemed to approve of his decision to take the mountain path (he wasn’t going to leave a group of scouts lost in there, even if he didn’t know them). A straight charge might have been faster, but Astra did not feel comfortable jumping into that. None of them knew what was waiting on the other side, and he preferred to observe the danger before diving headfirst into it. 

Fortunately they found the lost group on time, and sent them safely back to camp through the route they had just cleared. Little bits of banter between his companions lightened Astra’s heart despite his own quiet and nervous mood, but even after fighting demons and closing more rifts, stepping into the temple ruins was, well, an experience. 

It was barren, burnt, and full of charred bodies. Astra wanted to look for Ellor and Maers just to get closure that they were truly gone, but looking at the burnt bodies on the ground, he knew that he would be better off without that experience. Nor did he have time now.

Cassandra spoke up as they began walking down the uneven path. “That is where you walked out the Fade and our soldiers found you. They said a woman was in the rift behind you. No one knows who she was.” Ah, so that’s why they had been so intrigued by his mention of a woman in his fragments of memory.

“I remember a woman. But no more than that, it’s… frustrating.” Astra groaned, rubbing the side of his head.

“Honestly, kid. You should have spun a story, that’d have given you a better chance.” Varric commented, his tone light as he walked by, Solas following close behind. Astra gave the dwarven man a strange look in response to being called a kid, but Varric was no longer looking at him.

Solas continued the conversation idly, nodding his head towards Astra with a hint of an amused smile. “Perhaps, but that is what you would have done. Our friend here seems of a more honest type.” 

Whether or not Cassandra believed him, her reply was interrupted by Leliana’s arrival around the corner, looking relieved that they had all made it safely. She had quick, quiet words with the Seeker that Astra couldn’t follow, before turning to face him personally. “We will cover you, while you find a way down to the rift.”

Astra glanced nervously up at the breach high, high up in the sky, and hissed in an unsure breath. How was he supposed to close that, when he couldn’t even reach it? Seemingly Solas recognized his despair, to his relief. 

“There should be no need to reach the breach itself. This rift was the first, and if you seal it, it should affect the breach as well.” He gestured towards the smaller, though still large rift closer to the ground in the center of the courtyard. Astra took a deep breath and nodded, trying hard to hold onto his lingering hope. He felt the mark on his hand react to the breach, though surprisingly with none of the pain from before, and held it close to his chest. They should hurry.

The breach howled above them like a tornado, echoing with the otherworldly sounds of the fade. It brought a cold shudder over him to be so close to it. Astra faintly heard Varric note about red lyrium with a worried voice as they walked down the pathway, but his focus was set on the large, no, giant green rift ripped into the sky above them. Up close, it was even more eerie. He could easily imagine what it would feel like to use his magic here, to pull the power straight from the fade visible in the sky. 

Astra was so absorbed in the sight that he startled with a yelp, when suddenly a loud voice boomed across the charred courtyard. He quickly threw a hand up to cover his mouth, spinning around to see where the sound had come from, backing up into a stone for cover. Were they being watched?

**_“Now is the hour of our victory. Keep the sacrifice still.”_ ** A warped, male voice spoke with confidence.

“What was that?!” Astra yelled as soon as the sound disappeared. His voice shook from the nerves, alarmed. Only a few moments later, the voice returned.

**_“Someone! Help me!”_ ** This time, a female voice, afraid and hurried.

“That was the Divine’s voice!” Cassandra called out, her voice catching on the same nerves Astra was feeling. If he knew her better, he would have thought her voice held heartbreak in it. Immediately after, another followed, one that made Astra pause in his step, looking over the broken ruins of walls in shock. 

**_“What’s going on here?!”_ ** An alarmed yell, of a male elven voice.

His voice. 

Astra’s heart began to race and he ran the rest of the way down to the courtyard, swiftly followed by the Seeker and their companions. They met up with him at the base as he was backing away from a dark cloud of mist, his eyes wide in fear. He felt someone behind grab his arm lightly and pull him back into the midst of his companions, only then daring to breathe again. 

They all watched in tense silence as the mist formed an image, and the voices from before boomed above them yet again, this time with visible images of their speakers. While the rest were focused on the Divine hanging mid-air in the dark figure’s hold, Astra caught the eyes of his own mist-formed image, at the thrown-open doors of the temple, terror and yet, determination, filling his past self’s eyes.

**_“We have an intruder. Slay the elf!”_ ** the large, dark figure ordered, and before he could see what happened next, the misty images burst into bright white light and dissipated, leaving behind only the large green rift in the center of the yard.

“You  _ were _ there! What happened to the Divine? Who was that creature?!” Cassandra yelled desperately, stepping quickly closer to Astra and well into his space, making him take a step back.

“I’ve told you, I can’t remember!” He yelled back, stress rising yet again as he stood below the rift, tensions rising with every waited moment. “Yelling at me isn’t going to make it any easier to do so!” he snapped, taking quick steps away from her, towards the rift, and glanced at Solas instead, hoping for him to have some better ideas. “How do we close this, it doesn’t seem to be active?” 

The other elven man nodded, and pointed towards his palm. “It is closed, and you must open it to fully be able to seal it. That, however, will likely attract attention on the other side.” He frowned, as did the Seeker.

“That means demons. Be ready!” She called up to the walls to their soldiers, and unsheathed her own sword. Solas and Varric followed suit, staff and crossbow in hand as Astra reached up to hold his palm out, letting the mark on his hand connect to the sparking green of the rift.

With a wince, he watched as the fade burst open, and almost immediately a large, purpleish demon with multiple eyes came through, falling to the ground. A pride demon. Of course. Astra groaned and quickly dove out of its way as soon as the mark released its hold on the rift, allowing him to move again. He’d rather not get crushed in close proximity, and- oh, shit, it was throwing lightning. Even more reason to stay back.

With his spells mostly consisting of lightning, Astra honestly wasn’t very useful in the fight, aside from a few choice fireballs, and the occasional time when he dared stand still long enough to try disrupting the rift, weakening its connection to the demon. The others seemed to be doing fine enough, Cassandra fighting with her sword in close range like she was used to, Varric flitting in and out of sight as arrow bolts flew into the rage demon’s sides almost continuously, and Solas standing further away casting ice and barriers, only moving closer when he couldn’t reach someone. All of them seemed to be reasonably good fighters, which made Astra a little ashamed to be so slow to react at times, and overall more confused in the battle.

The demon fell eventually, and he knew there would be only a small fraction of time before another creature found the rift. Astra, now catching his breath on the other end of the yard, dropped his staff to free his hands and ran to the rift, wishing with all his being that this would be enough to close the big one. 

Lifting his arm up, he was already biting down hard, expecting the earlier pain of the rift’s energy. This time it was much worse, perhaps due to the sheer size of the breach, and felt like a direct lightning bolt. Astra felt his heart stutter and all his breath be forcefully pushed out of his lungs with a strangled exhale. The rift was fighting back. Stumbling backwards a step and a half, he gasped and lifted his fingers higher, steadying the outreached arm with his other hand. He was sending up as much of his magic with the mark's magic as he knew how to, even as it made him feel weak. He heard Cassandra call for him, sounding nervous and concerned. 

His arm felt like it was on fire and freezing numb at the same time, and the feeling traveled down his arm and to the rest of his body, making his head ache, his /eyes/ ache, and his heart beat hard enough for his chest to ache. His ears rang loudly and endlessly, and behind it he heard hopeful cheers and closer, his own wheezing gasps of breath. Everywhere the energy spread to in his body felt wrong, nothing like closing the smaller rifts. The rift was pulling on his magic faster than he could replenish it, and the draining force made him feel sick, stumbling the slightest bit, not daring to move his focus from the rift right now.

With one final burst, what magic his body still had left rushed into the breach, followed by a rough spasm of the mark on his palm, feeling like someone had pushed a knife through the bright green wound. Astra screamed, the connection between him and the rift breaking, bringing a blissful numbness over him. He couldn't hear past the ringing in his ears, and his sight was blurring and fading so much he couldn't tell if he succeeded or not. He staggered heavily forward once the rift’s tie to his arm was gone from keeping him upright, his legs refusing to move as he tried to get them back under himself.

Somebody caught him before he hit the ground, and guided him to his knees and down to sit on the ground, slumped against their shoulder. His head was pounding and he felt feverish, breath coming in short bursts. Something loud boomed high above him in the sky, and the world around him burst into cheers, muted and muffled in his ears as Astra tried to hold onto consciousness. Someone was talking to him but he couldn't make out the words or the person over the ringing and the tunnel vision of nausea, having difficulty even keeping hold of his own disjointed thoughts. His struggle must have shown on his face, because the hold on him shifted and he felt himself leaning onto something smooth and cold, perhaps armor, with a cold hand pressing onto his cheek, and then his forehead. He couldn’t help but shut his eyes to relieve the pounding in his head.  _ If this was how he died, then at least he hoped they had succeeded. _

Astra felt himself slipping limply to the side as his consciousness waned, and before he could worry about hitting the ground, his awareness faded to black.


	3. Enter the inquisition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The inquisition is officially begun, Astra takes a detour to fulfill his duty to the two clan mates he'd brought to their deaths, guiding them to the beyond. A good talk is had at the fireside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still working on finding the golden middle path between "too much dialogue" and "too much descriptor text" so uh, bear with me?

Green, enveloping everything in sight, crawling creatures chasing him. Spiders shifting into familiar faces, but unnatural and cold. Astra felt his breath catch as he backed away from them. There was a bright light behind him, calling, trying to guide him. It had a woman’s voice, but he couldn’t make out the words, or her face, it was too bright and her voice echoed endlessly in the continuously changing scenery. 

He lifted an arm to shield himself from having to see the creatures but felt like he couldn’t move right, held down by something invisible. A sudden taste of potion in his throat confused him for a moment, before he fell deeper into darkness once more, leaving his dreams in the fade behind.

\---

He woke up alone on a soft mattress. 

Was he dead? He sure felt like he’d been run over by an aravel or two. 

...No, it was too cold here for it to be anywhere but Haven. Despite the walls around him and the blankets barely over his feet (kicked off in his sleep, probably), the cold mountain air couldn’t be mistaken. Sounds echoed from outside as well, the clanging of swords and the occasional yell of guidance from a soldier to another. 

Blearily he turned to see where he was, trying to gather some coherent thoughts and get a glimpse of the environment. Hair fell over Astra’s face as he turned, prompting him to lift an arm to push it away, the green glow on his palm making him pause. 

Well, that was still on his hand. How fun.

Bringing the hand into a fist and resting it against his forehead with a tired groan, he remembered the large, ever-growing tear into the fade, and the people below on the temple yard fighting a large demon. It was a surprise he’d survived, all things considered. At least this time he woke up on a bed, rather than a cold cell floor.

There was no time to explore any further, as a loud clang of wood against stone rang through the room. Astra startled and sat up, scooting back into the corner with wide eyes. 

People of Haven hadn’t been happy to see him last, had someone broken into the house?

When he blinked the remainders of sleep from his eyes and shoved the loose hair aside from his face, his eyes met with the source of the sound. In the middle of the room stood a startled young elven girl, a fallen box at her feet and her hands clenched into trembling fists in the air where she’d been carrying it a moment ago.

Oh thank the creators, she didn’t look like a threat at all, she actually looked more startled than he did. With a soft exhale of a laugh, relief filled his chest. It was foolish to jump at every noise, but he couldn't help being nervous after everything in the past few days. 

“ _Aneth ar_ -” He began to speak, only to be interrupted with her swift words, louder than necessary due to her shaken nerves. Not that he minded, louder was always easier to follow, but she seemed scared. 

“I didn't mean to wake you! I-I beg for your forgiveness, I am just a humble servant, I-” 

The young elf sounded terrified, like she was reciting a memorized speech under pressure. It was impossible to fit a single word in and honestly Astra was having a hard time following her words anyway, since after the first few sentences her voice kept dropping to a frightened mutter, and- oh no, she was bowing. 

He winced visibly. Being bowed at by another of his people was the absolute last thing he wanted.

“It’s okay, I’m sorry I scared you. Y-you don’t need to bow.” He motioned at the girl to get up, his voice flustered and low. “You’re fine, I promise. Please get up.” 

Despite trying to keep his voice light, he was sure the desperate undertones were clearly audible. To his relief she did stand back up, though she still looked at him like he could ruin her life for one wrong move. 

He hated being faced with that look, and a more protective side of him focused on wondering who’d taught her to look like that at anyone, especially at one of her own people. He knew there was a rift between the dalish and the city elves, but this wasn’t how he imagined it to be. This was something else.

“You never have to bow to me, I'm not a _shem_ that expects that kind of thing from you." Astra repeated just for emphasis and went for a fresh start, with the polite yet strained smile that usually got him through lessons on proper cultural behavior with the Keeper. "What’s your name?”

The elven girl took a step closer, seeming to relax slightly and crouched to turn the box she’d dropped so it wasn’t laying down on its side anymore. A startled look crossed her face at his request for her name, but she nodded lightly and spoke quietly and carefully. Fortunately it was quiet in the house, so Astra didn’t need to ask her to repeat herself. That would be bad for both of their nerves.

“My name’s Cea...my lord.” He winced at the title, a flash of confusion and hesitance crossing his face. Why would she call him that?

“I-It’s nice to meet you, Cea. Can you just call me Astra, please? Or Lavellan, anything but ‘lord’ really.” He hurried the words out before taking a breath to continue more calmly, when she nodded. “What happened after I passed out at the temple? I’m back in Haven, aren’t I?” He wasn’t quite sure what the inside of the houses he’d passed were like exactly, but that seemed the likeliest option.

Since he woke up on a bed and not in chains, closing the tear in the sky had probably gone relatively well. And if not, well, they would likely have him try again.

“You closed the rift, my lor- er, serah Lavellan! The breach is still in the sky but it’s stable now, no more monsters falling down from the sky.” Her relief showed from her little smile, though it was still nervous. 

Astra sighed in relief, glad to know his efforts proved useful and he didn’t go through that for nothing. 

Cea continued when he didn’t respond, her voice strengthening a little as she got more used to speaking with him. "That’s right, serah, you’re back in Haven. Right beside the gates. You've slept for a few days again, everyone's been worried, but Adan was confident you'd wake up, though he did say you were dreaming quite harshly...a-again." Her words tapered out towards the end, becoming more nervous and quiet.

Cea was clearly wary of him, but it seemed the fact they were both elves was helping her nerves a little bit. Though him being dalish seemed to be a bit foreign to her even so, by how much her eyes wandered to his vallaslin as she spoke. He couldn’t fault her for that, he hadn’t seen any other dalish in the village so far, either, and they didn’t usually show their faces that much in cities anyway.

"Thank you, Cea, you’re very helpful.”

Less confused now, Astra shifted to the side of the bed and stood up, giving her one last smile as he spoke, more genuine this time. Soon he realized his mistake though, as Cea squeaked in fright as he approached and backed away from him, stumbling over her feet and her words as she hurried backwards, nerves looking to return tenfold. 

“Um- The lady seeker is waiting for you in the Chantry! She wanted to see you as soon as you awoke, serah. At once, she said!” She even gave one last little bow, before running off.

Damn it. Astra couldn’t help but sigh deeply, feeling sorry for the servant girl as he watched the door slam shut behind her, and made a note to speak to her again later. First he wanted to get a better grasp of the situation, though. If Cassandra wanted to see him, he supposed he had little choice but to go.

He’d recognized a similar kind of stubbornness in them both earlier. It would be a miracle if they got through this meeting without arguments. 

Sleeping for so long had made him sore. Lifting his arms up to stretch to his full height until he heard a little pop, Astra breathed deeply before relaxing, arms falling back to his sides as he glanced around the room. There was a set of clothes in the box Cea had brought, made of warm and stretchy fabric. Good, he was growing uncomfortable with the clothes he borrowed for the conclave, they didn’t quite fit right, nor were they very warm in this weather. With the mountain air anything that held in body heat was more than welcome.

Huh, no hairbrush anywhere. Guess he’d just have to live with the tangles in his hair for now. If it turned into a single large bird’s nest, he could blame the shems for their lack of planning.

After a change of clothes and a quick attempt at combing the tangles out with his fingers, along with some choice curses muttered in the dalish dialect as his fingers caught onto tangles, Astra eventually just pulled everything into a simple braid to hide the worst of it. He’d untangle everything once he had a chance to bathe properly. With hair that reached down to his waist it was hopeless to even try combing it down properly with just his hands.

Walking through the doorway, he got no farther than three steps before noticing the masses of Haven’s residents outside, standing in groups lining the roads. 

Shit. 

The elf felt his breath catch in his chest, a wheezing gasp all he could manage. He reflexively cast a barrier around himself with a quick little flick of his fingers, taking hurried steps backwards, only for his back to hit the door with a quiet thud. The presence of magic surrounding him was soothing, but only the slightest bit.

He’d already closed the door behind him, so returning in would be clumsy and slow. He’d just have to try and slip away from the mobs.

After a few quick breaths though, Astra realized nobody was approaching. The closest few people were casting him confused and worried looks, while the ones further off were still excited and speaking loudly.

“It’s him! The herald!” Someone yelled excitedly as the few people in the middle of the road parted to give him a walkway through the group. “He saved us! He stopped the breach from growing!” The others echoed, whispering loudly between themselves. This was… nothing like he had expected. He didn’t know how to react to such a welcome, when last he’d seen these people, it had been with murderous glances towards him, judgement in every one of their eyes.

Brightly tinted brown eyes sweeping warily through the crowds, Astra took a few steps and glanced up the hill where the Chantry loomed in wait, holding the seeker and her people within. Nobody had moved to attack him, so the elf kept walking, trying to hold his back straight and hide his fear even after he felt the barrier spell fade from around him. 

Heading towards the large building he passed by many other similar groups, all speaking of him and the rift. Cea had been right, they were happy with him. He was unnerved regardless.

He’d assumed more people to be inside the chantry, but it was a relief to only see a few chantry sisters tending to their duties. Even they did not seem to pay him much mind, thank the creators. Astra closed the large doors behind him and rested against them for a moment, taking a deep breath, and another, squeezing his eyes closed for a moment. It was hard not to let himself shake from nerves. 

He’d never been around so many humans, especially alone and just yesterday (or had it been longer?) they had wanted him dead. The change had been so sudden, who was to say they wouldn’t change their minds again at the drop of a coin?

With some willpower he lifted his back from the door and walked to the end of the hallway with slow steps. Muffled yelling was heard from the other side of the door, and Astra braced himself for the oncoming argument. He opened the door, revealing the same clergyman he’d seen before arguing with Cassandra and Leliana around a large table. Leliana gave the elf a soft smile as he entered and mouthed a quiet greeting, all the while the clergyman threw a glare at him.

“Arrest him! He must be taken to Val Royeaux to be judged for his crimes!”

Astra stepped to the side, startled and trying to avoid the guards’ reach as he nearly collided with the stone wall beside the large table. Fortunately, the guards only turned to glance at the Seeker for confirmation, leaving him alone for now. The flickers of a shield spell itched at Astra’s fingers yet again, but he held back the reflex this time.

“No. Leave us,” Cassandra sighed, folding her arms as the guards nodded and turned to leave, Astra glaring shaky daggers at their backs from his newly chosen safe spot near the wall. She turned to the clergyman, a frown on her stern face.”We will not ignore the danger the breach still holds, chancellor Roderick. Surely you understand that.”

“He is a suspect!” the man- Roderick, protested.

What an insufferable man this was. With a deep inhale, Astra stood up straighter and looked at the two women with a desperate expression. “I helped you, and it almost killed me! What more do you want?” He scoffed, spreading his arms a little, the green mark flickering in his left hand. 

“And you think it is not suspicious at all that you still live?” The man argued back, clearly unhappy with the idea that the elf might in fact not be taken to a cell again. “Surely you can't be this foolish, seeker.”

Cassandra simply gave Astra a quiet nod of affirmation, before turning back to the clergyman, a stern look on her face. However, Leliana spoke before Cassandra could begin arguing with the man, and moved closer to the tableside. “Serah Lavellan is not a suspect. He helped us calm the breach, and we heard the Divine call to him for help at the temple.” She met Roderick’s eyes with a steady look, but her eyes showed a harsh suspicion and flickers of grief.

“-Regardless, someone was behind the explosion at the conclave. Someone the most holy did not expect. ...Likely someone she knew well. Perhaps they died with the others, or have allies who yet live,” she explained, her expression hardening even further. 

The chancellor’s expression turned to shock and then fury, which made Astra feel an uncharacteristic amount of joy as he realized where this was going.

“You’re saying I’m a suspect?!” The man stuttered, bewildered. Astra couldn’t help but smile a little at the turn of events. Whether or not this man deserved the suspicion, he didn’t know, but it sure felt good to have the tables turned on him. 

“Do you have an alibi, brother?” the elf asked quietly under his breath, though to his surprise the comment received a glare from the chancellor. Whoops, too loud, then. He grimaced awkwardly, glancing at the others.

Leliana gracefully ignored his comment and nodded at the chancellor. “You, and many others.” Her voice was stern, more so than usual. Even Astra who was still confused by the situation, could tell this was personal to her.

“But not the prisoner.” Roderick responded slowly, disappointment clear on his face.

“No.” Cassandra responded in turn, leading Astra’s gaze towards her in surprise. “I heard the divine’s words at the crater. He is not our enemy.” 

“So the mark on his hand is all a coincidence, then?” 

She shook her head, and her voice turned softer when she stole a hesitant glance towards the elf. “Providence. The maker has sent him to us in our darkest hour. I will not pretend he was not what we needed, exactly when we needed it.”

Nice as it was to finally have some kind of trust from the seeker, Astra suddenly felt like he was drowning. His response was strained as he took a step towards the door. “You can’t be serious,” he mumbled, the earlier anxiety from the masses of people outside rising back up into his chest like bile.

The three humans kept talking as if he had not responded, and Astra wasn’t sure if he’d spoken too quietly or if they simply chose to ignore him. He zoned them out for a moment, turning away from them as he tried to even out his heartbeat and breathing, rubbing at his eyes until he was able to focus again. _Fenedhis,_ Haven was clearly intent on giving him as many emotional whiplashes as possible while he was here _._ First they wanted him dead, then they didn’t, and now he was _providence_?!

“-The breach remains, and his mark is still our only hope of closing it,” he zoned back in to hear Leliana explain, still facing Roderick who grumbled angrily.

“You do not have the right to be deciding this.”

“Perhaps not before, but now-” Cassandra returned from the back of the room with a large tome, slamming it to the table with a loud thud, revealing the symbol on its cover, a large eye with flame-like shapes and a sword around it. “-with this, we will.”

She paused, turning sternly to look Roderick in the eye. “You know what this is, do you not, Chancellor? The authority given by Divine Justinia, to bring back the inquisition.”

“You cannot be serious, seeker.” The man tried, looking distraught, but Cassandra ignored him and continued on, walking to face Astra and Leliana.

Her voice was level, a passionate tone as she spoke. “Here and now, with you as our witnesses, I declare the inquisition reborn. We will close the breach, find those responsible, and restore order. With or without anyone's approval.” 

The chancellor stood for a moment with fury in his eyes, before turning on his heels and walking out the door, slamming it on his way out. Despite her words just now, Cassandra looked frustrated and anxious about her actions, a hand held against her face as she leaned over the table, sighing. Yet it seemed she was not wracked by regret, simply nerves.

Astra took the quiet moment as his chance to finally speak, making sure to do it louder than last time. “Bring back the inquisition? What exactly are you doing?” 

Leliana smiled the smallest bit as she turned to him. “By rebuilding the inquisition we will find those who wish to fight against this chaos, and stabilise order within the land. We will stand against those who wish harm upon the people of Thedas.” 

Her proud tone faltered just a little as she continued, closing her eyes for a moment to think. “We are not ready. With no leader, no forces, now no chantry support, we stand at a disadvantage. But we have no choice, and spreading word of our goal will help us gain the strength needed to make a difference.”

“So, what? You want a holy war? As if the fighting between the mages and templars isn't chaotic enough, you want to bring the chantry-led forces into it, too.” Astra hissed, anxiety rising. For all the stories he’d heard humans spread about bloodthirsty dalish, these humans sure seemed a better fit for the description.

Cassandra sighed as she folded her arms tiredly. “We are already at war. And the inquisition is not part of the chantry, regardless of its origin.” 

Astra doubted the truth of that statement, but didn't argue it out loud. 

"You are already involved, as the mark on your hand shows. You can help us, or you can leave, but we cannot protect you if you go. Remember, many still believe you at fault for the conclave’s destruction.”

Astra knew he was expected to agree and join them with a heroic smile on his face, but he just wanted to go home. If he agreed, perhaps they would keep their eyes on him less intensely, and he could run. But he wasn’t a fighter, if he got recognized on the road he’d be in deep trouble well before he reached the Free Marches, let alone his clan. 

Blinking tiredly, he breathed out and stared at the floor, and then shook his head to clear his thoughts. He didn’t really have a choice, despite what they claimed. He might as well humor them for now and try to fix this.

Holding his hand over his heart in a motion of promise, he gave a weak, faux smile, and then reached out to grasp the seeker’s offered hand. “Fine. As long as you’re working towards peace, I’ll help with what I can.”

\---

The next morning, he was up and about early on, this time with his hair properly washed, brushed and tied up to keep the dark grey strands out of his eyes. The lower layers still rested free over his shoulders, but the top parts had been pulled into a simple yet sturdy bun in the back. It kept the hair out of his face, while letting him keep the warmth it held on his neck, where the coat ended. In the mountain air any warmth was welcome.

Astra had borrowed supplies from the neighboring little houses, let Leliana know where he was going, and hiked himself to the crater at the temple of Sacred Ashes. She had offered to send scouts with him in case of danger, but he’d refused. This was private business, not for the shemlen to watch for entertainment. Despite that, he knew he had scouts tailing him anyway, just out of sight.

Whatever, as long as they didn’t get too close to bother him, he could ignore them. 

He couldn’t go home, but he could do something for his people here. Namely, for the two hunters he had traveled with. Ellor and Maers deserved the proper funeral rites, and Astra had always been taught by the keeper that dalish souls could not find their way through the veil alone. 

As their clanmate he could not leave them like that. Never, if he had a choice, they were part of his family. Besides, he had to get out of Haven for a bit to keep his sanity, that place was seriously beginning to suffocate him.

Now though, finally standing at the destroyed yard of the temple, hesitation was hitting him like a hammer. His knowledge of magical things told him well enough that the bodies would not be left solid after the blast, but he felt ill nonetheless with the anticipation of seeing them. He didn’t truly want to find them and see them, but he owed it to them to guide them. 

There wasn’t anyone else here to do it in his place. 

So with heavy steps, Astra began moving forward, huffing out a nervous breath as he entered the would-be hallways of the destroyed temple, roughly where he thought he’d been before his memory cut off. He couldn’t be sure, of course, with everything burnt to the ground, but it was close enough.

Walking silently, he kept an eye out for any familiar items, but few things had survived. Shaking hands held tightly onto the cedar branches he’d picked up on the way, and he tried to ignore the feeling of eyes on his back. Hope had begun to fade when he turned the corner and stepped onto a piece of fabric. 

In the colors of their supply bags. 

Crouching to examine it further, the stitching confirmed it. It was made by clan Lavellan’s crafters. He could recognize Inna’s handiwork with ease since his own bags as well as his apprentice outfit were all designed by her. Creators, he missed that woman’s jokes so much right now. They, if anything, would have made him despair less over this whole ‘reborn inquisition’ or whatever it was.

But here he was, in a crater on the other side of the sea, likely standing over the bodies of two of his clanmates. A mild nausea threatened to rise and he closed his eyes with a shaky breath, before daring to look ahead on the ground.

He’d been right to assume there wasn’t much left to bury. Astra barely saw anything on the ground, everything burnt to nothing… Even this sight made him feel ill, both with knowing they were here, and with the guilt of knowing they never made it out, while he did. 

He picked up the bits of fabric and a few metal clasps that had survived the blast, and walked away from the crater silently, until his feet finally reached snowy grass. He buried the clasps and fabric in place of their bodies in a little pit, and spoke the funeral rites of Falon’din under his breath, in an older form of elvhen than the one he spoke as his first language. 

_“Falon’din, Friend of the Dead, may you guide my brother and sister safely into the beyond.”_

The dalish elvhen was a modern dialect, largely formed around retained pieces of ancient elvhen in the lack of memory for the full language, but the clan made sure old traditions still used the original forms where possible. Speaking such words brought to mind his actual siblings, and he sighed tiredly. He could only wish they were safe.

He buried the embroidered fabric for Ellor with a branch of cedar, and the metal clasps for Maers with another branch, one for each to guide them. Once Astra had nothing left to say, he simply placed stones on top of the dirt, similarly to the way signals his clan left behind to mark their usual routes. 

To guide their spirits, and to signal other dalish (as if any would ever come here, he almost scoffed) that their people were buried here. This was the best he could do for his clan members he’d brought to danger. Though he still couldn’t remember what had happened, he’d brought them here. To their deaths.

Creators, his hands were shaking so much. 

Astra covered his mouth with his hand when the nervous shaking of his hands extended to the rest of his body, and tearful gasps began to escape him, distraught and regretful. And so, so homesick, as he sat in the snow, so far from the plains, forests and mountain sides he called home. 

He felt the mark on his hand flare up with his emotions and cursed it desperately, squeezing his hand into a fist as if it would disappear when put out of sight. When it didn’t, the despair spread into a squirming mass inside his chest, threatening to flow over. The lone dalish apprentice leaned over the little grave, and allowed himself to weep for his lost companions, and for the clan that likely still expected them home. He cried for his desire to be with his family, and for his own unknown future with this mark believing he, too, would not be coming home.

\---

Two days later, Astra was gently pulled aside by Leliana.

“Serah Lavellan. I apologize for ignoring you in these past days, we have been extremely busy with the inquisition. I hope you have been well after your journey down to the temple?” She asked, a hint of a smile on her lips.

She was subtle, but he knew she was asking because of the reports she’d received from the scouts tailing him to the crater. Of course they’d seen everything, why wouldn’t they? He wanted to feel embarrassed, to be angry about it, but honestly he was just tired. 

“...I suppose. It’s as cold as ever, so I’ve tried to stay inside. Feels weird.” He replied, voice a bit hollow. He only answered because she was asking kindly, though he didn’t truly feel like talking at all. He’d spent the last few days doing quite literally nothing of importance, having all the time in the world to dwell on his thoughts and fears, while the so-called inquisition was taking its first steps through message ravens and new recruits.

“You could always ask Harritt for a warm cloak, you know.” Leliana chuckled, looking sympathetic to his struggle with the weather. “I understand it is a fair bit warmer in the Marches this time of year, it must be a shock.” 

Astra simply shrugged, idly glancing towards the blacksmith’s workshop, though he couldn’t quite see it from here through the gate walls. “Guess I could. It’s… freezing in here, I’m surprised anyone lives here voluntarily.” He admitted, trying his hardest to keep the conversation going. The responding laughter from Leliana surprised a little smile out of him, at least. 

To tell the truth, he felt thankful that she cared enough to talk to him. As far as he knew she hadn’t spoken about his temple detour to the seeker either, which he greatly appreciated. She was harsh and effective in what she did, but there was a certain softness below the surface that came out when he spoke to her alone, revealing traces of a more innocent worldview that had once been there. He’d been a bit afraid of her, originally, but now that he was no longer a suspect, he could see a more compassionate side of the hooded woman.

“...How are the preparations going?” He asked, glancing back up at her. He couldn’t help still being a little doubtful of the success rate of the inquisition. 

She gave a sigh with a smile, and shook her head, arms folded lightly. “It’s slow work of recruiting and seeking connections, but we are doing fairly well considering how recent this is. It’s no more challenging than the last blight was, though the people are largely different, and the lack of an archdemon is a pleasant change. We are making a difference, regardless of the costs to get us here.” He could swear her smile held something strained within, but chose not to comment. Instead he focused on her example, now becoming curious.

“You were in Ferelden during the blight?” He thought she sounded Orlesian based on her accent, but… well, he shouldn’t assume. The countries were neighbors, after all, it wasn’t far-fetched at all to think she’d gone across the border with ease.

“Oh, yes. I saw it quite close from Tabris’ side. It was quite an experience, though perhaps one I would not like to repeat.” She chuckled. Astra’s train of thought stopped for a moment, and he stumbled over his words. 

“Wh-, Tabris? The hero of the fifth blight?” Now that he thought about it, there had been recounts of a redheaded bard within the wardens’ group in the collected memoirs he’d read, but he would never even have thought to add two and two together here. 

“Yes, I consider Amya one of my dearest friends. Though I haven’t heard from her in quite a while, I hope she is safe, wherever she is.” Her voice sounded a bit wistful and worried, though she covered it up soon after, seeming to remember something, her posture changing into a more formal stance. 

“Ah. I came here to request your visit to the war room. Our ambassador has arrived, and I would like you to meet her. She is an old friend. The commander of our soldiers is there as well, I don’t think you’ve met?” A slight tilt to her head made it a question, though Astra suspected she already knew the answer. He shook his head regardless, and shifted, ready to move along.

“Of course. We can go now, if they’re waiting already.”

“Glad to hear it.” She smiled, before turning to lead the way.

\---

The large maps over the table immediately captured his attention as he walked into the war room after Leliana. He didn’t even pay attention to the people right away, the detailed drawings drawing his eyes completely.

It was Astra’s first time in Ferelden, and he’d yet to step foot in Orlais, but the maps showed so many interesting places at a quick glance. Namely the Dales, which held his gaze for a moment longer.

“ _Andaran atish’an,_ ” a soft accented voice said, startling the distracted elf. 

Astra blinked in surprise, a wide-eyed gaze snapping up to her. A woman with a shiny, brightly colored dress and dark hair was looking at him with a welcoming smile, giving a small nod of her head. Hearing the familiar words so suddenly made him unintentionally pause. 

“...You speak elven?” He asked, with a little thread of hope growing in his mind.

She laughed lightly, a friendly smile on her face. “You just heard the entirety of it, I’m afraid. I will do my best to learn more while I am here.” He couldn’t help but return the smile, giving a small nod in thanks. A small act as it was to speak a single sentence, being welcomed in his own language made his heart feel lighter in an instant.

A little while later, Cassandra walked in, looking pleased to see everyone in place, and turned to the elf. “Good, you are here. This is our ambassador, Josephine Montilyet of Antiva, and our commander, Cullen Rutherford. You already know Sister Leliana, who is our spymaster.”

Leliana sighed, her voice holding a deadpan tone, “tactfully put, Cassandra.”

Astra nodded at them all, hiding a little smile at the comment. “Impressive titles, but I hope you have a plan because the breach is still there, as is my mark, and I doubt it cares about titles nearly as much as nobles do.”

Now it was Cassandra’s turn to hide the little quirk of her lips, coughing lightly to keep her stern expression. “Yes. After doing research with Solas these past few days, we have come to believe a second attempt should work, provided there is enough power behind the mark. Having the mark draw from a larger power source seems like the best option, if unsafe.”

Astra nodded, having suspected such an idea given their first attempt. “What’s a little more danger, at this point?” He spoke low, sarcastically, fidgeting with the hand that held the mark.

“Which means we must approach the rebel mages for help.” Leliana commented, only to receive a tired sigh of disapproval from Cullen.

“I still disagree. The templars could do just as well. I was one of them, I know what they are capable of.”

Astra jolted slightly in surprise, though he hoped it wasn’t visible. A templar. He felt his heart begin to race in anxiety, old fears arising even as his feet were planted solidly on the ground. He tried to focus on the past term, ‘ _was_ a templar’.

“Unfortunately, neither will speak to us yet.” Josephine responded with a solemn look, before throwing a concerned look towards Astra. “Ah- serah Lavellan, are you alright?” She looked concerned, he was sure he looked quite nauseous right now. He nodded quickly nonetheless, his eyes staying glued to Cullen’s hands, reflexively watching for any kind of templar spell, though the logical part of him was sure none would come. The commander seemed to notice as well, and lowered his hands immediately, coming to the realization of the fear’s source.

“Oh- you’re a mage, aren’t you? I’m no longer with the templars. You’ve got nothing to fear from me.” The man tried, even taking a step backwards to put more space between them. 

Leliana moved to place her hand on Astra’s shoulder, lightly enough that he didn’t feel like escaping, and spoke to him with a steady tone. “He speaks the truth. Cullen has left the templars. You are safe.” Astra was doubtful, but seeing the others murmur their agreements, he relaxed the slightest bit, no longer wanting to run out, exactly. 

“Sure.” the elf laughed a bit, the sound nervous and harsh. “As long as he stays on that side of the table.” He knew that was rude, but didn’t have it in him to stop the words. Although he had to remember he’d spent the last few days in the same camp with this man, and not once had he come after the elven mage. It wasn’t like someone could drag him to a circle now, anyway, when all mages were technically apostates. 

That thought helped Astra relax, and he straightened a little, facing the blonde man. “Sorry. That was unfair. I just- the keeper always warned us about templars, ever since we were small.”

“Us?”

“The keeper's apprentices. Myself and Rissa. We’re mages, so she always drilled it into us to be extra careful.” He sighed. Didn’t help that he’d experienced a templar’s patrol for mages to take to the circle himself, in the past. It was pure luck that he was found by clan members before they’d brought him too far. It was certainly not the happiest memory he had, though time had softened the emotions a little.

The man shook his head, seemingly hurt, but more understanding now than angry. “I was a templar, I know what they are capable of, in good and bad. I understand your hesitance, but they could suppress the breach and weaken it. The mage rebellion is a risk, with the way they are now.” Astra bit his tongue not to ask _what_ , exactly, he meant by that.

“As I said, neither will speak to us yet.” Josephine sighed, interrupting the argument. “Additionally, the chantry has denounced us. You, specifically.” She pointed at Astra, who looked confused.

“Why me? Because of the mark?” He folded his arms, frowning. He was honestly surprised people outside of Haven even knew of him, with the new inquisition taking focus. He would have preferred to stay unknown, actually.

“Some are calling you, a dalish elf, the Herald of Andraste. That frightens the chantry.” Josephine continued, frowning worriedly as Astra’s expression changed to confused disgust. 

Cullen continued, folding his arms in a clear signal of frustration. “They call us heretics for harboring you, and believe we will only make the situation worse.”

"The Herald of Andraste? You can't be serious." Astra hissed out, in disbelief. "Of all the things it has to be the chantry's icon. _What else did I expect from self-centered fanatics?_ " He mumbled the last bit to himself in elvhen, face covered in his hands as he spoke, muffled and tired, taking a moment before he continued speaking out loud yet again. He removed his hands from his face, but refused to look anyone in the eye. "I am not a herald of anyone. Least of all Andraste, or your Maker." 

Cassandra hummed under her breath, staring at Astra with surprise. "They say a woman was seen in the rift behind you, after the blast. Many believe that was Andraste, guiding you. Do you not believe in the Maker? I suspected, of course, but-"

He laughed bitterly. "I know enough about Andraste that I know she led the elves of her time to their freedom, and I respect her for that. But her followers also took what remained to my people in the Dales after centuries of slavery. We couldn't have one fucking land for ourselves, the Chantry made sure of that with the Exalted March." 

He sneered. "So, I'd thank you not to call me any herald of yours. Even if the chantry wasn’t actively trying to systematically erase our history and culture, I would still believe in the elven gods, that much should be clear from my face." He motioned angrily at his red vallaslin, and folded his arms, waiting for a response he was sure would come.

To his surprise, it was not completely what he'd expected, despite some uncomfortable glances. Josephine, who had already given a good first impression simply nodded, giving a small though worried smile. "I will make sure that is noted. ...I cannot promise the people will understand it right away but we must work together, respecting each other's wishes to our best ability.” She gave a determined smile as she wrote something down. 

“In fact, serah Lavellan, could I ask what your tattoos represent? I do not know the symbols myself, but I hear they are for each of the gods?" She added, seeming genuinely curious. He was glad to hear she meant it when she’d spoken of her interest in learning more.

Astra blinked, stunned at her response, as were the others. The warmth of a budding friendship spread in his chest and he gave a thankful half-smile, feeling relieved at hearing his name instead of the new title he hated. "Uh- yes. It's Sylaise, the hearthkeeper. _Mamala_ Deshanna- I mean, our keeper always says it’s fitting for her apprentice." He folded his arms loosely, feeling a bit awkward, but also much more relaxed than just moments ago.

"The keeper is your mother?" Leliana asked, curiously. "I know magic runs in the family, but I assumed there were longer breaks in between generations."

"Ah, no, grandmother, ‘ _mamala_ ’, not _‘mamae’_. Neither of my parents are mages, though my aunt and cousin are. There’s a few others too, from other families." Astra replied quickly, feeling a bit awkward, trying his best not to avoid their eyes. He was painfully aware of his voice faltering with nerves.

"It must be quite the task being apprenticed by a relative, but I assume a pleasant one?" Josephine asked, smiling encouragingly. Beside her, Leliana and Cassandra looked curious, while Cullen was doing his best to not interrupt the moment with his presence, still awkward from their earlier exchange.

"Yes. It is a lot of work and I doubt there's a perfect keeper out there, but… it's my family, I want to be good for them. I've been studying with _mamala_ since I was… twelve? I think?" He frowned a bit, unsure. 

"Almost twenty years, anyway. Deshanna says she'll retire soon, but the clan keeps relying on her. They know me well, but it's... it's a big change." He chuckles a bit, knowing she could retire anytime if she just stopped being so sentimental about her duties to the people. 

Regardless, Astra was glad for the longer period of learning before keepership. He was pretty sure Deshanna wanted to give him time to raise his daughter before having to take care of the whole clan, but he kept that thought to himself. He’d spoken enough about his family to these relative strangers.

Once he quieted down, Leliana picked up the conversation, giving a little nod of thanks for his explanation, and placed a marker on the map on Ferelden’s side. “Back to the plans. There is something we could do while the mages and templars are unreachable. There is a chantry cleric in the Hinterlands by the name of Mother Giselle, who has asked to speak to you. Her assistance could be invaluable.” she said, glancing at the elf.

“But why would she help heretics?” He asked, confused. Returning to the topic felt easier now, after their digression. He was thankful for Josephine for the little distraction, despite his nervousness.

“I understand she is a reasonable sort. Perhaps she disagrees with her fellow sisters?” Leliana shrugged. “You will find her tending to the wounded in the Crossroads. A small group of our forces will join you, and you may bring your previous companions if you wish. Cassandra will join you as well.” The seeker nodded dutifully at her mention.

The mention of Varric and Solas brought a little more light to Astra’s eyes, hopeful to finally go somewhere that wasn’t just within Haven.

“If you find chances, try to spread word of the inquisition. Whether or not you accept the title, the herald is best suited to spread our message.” Cullen added, with a nod from Josephine for affirmation.

Astra sighed, nodding tiredly. “Fine. I’ll see what I can do. I’ll go get Varric and Solas, I’m sure we’ll be ready to leave by evening.”

\----

Rubbing at his eyes tiredly, Astra walked towards the tents in front of the gate, spotting the dwarf tending to the fire. It was good to be back outside, the chantry was warmer, sure, but it also felt a little bit suffocating.

"Look who's finally out in the open! I thought you'd hide in the house forever." Varric laughed as Astra approached him. He had to admit, he'd barely spoken to anyone in the past days.

"I’ve been busy trying not to freeze to death out here." Astra sat down beside the fire, sighing with a little sarcastic smile. “I hate it, how can you sit out here?” He added, as a desperate whisper.

"Dwarves run warm by nature, is my best guess. Not that I enjoy this any more than you do." Varric rolled his eyes. Astra chuckled, followed by an agreeing hum under his breath. "Anyway, since the seeker's not in sight, how are you holding up?" the dwarf asked, looking genuinely concerned. “Need a blanket?” He added with a smirk, as the elf shuddered in the wind.

Astra sighed, resting his cheek against his knee. "Surprised to still be alive, honestly. Homesick as hell." he said, bluntly, deciding he might as well give an honest answer. He'd been drafting letters to send home, but everything was still so confusing he didn't know what to tell them. “Uh, yes please.”

Varric snorted at his bluntness, shaking his head slightly. "Understandable. Most of us would have spread all this over more than a few days. Here." He reached into the tent behind him and pulled out a blanket, holding it out to Astra, who gratefully tossed it over his shoulders, the chill immediately more tolerable.

"Mhm, if only. Tell me, do Leliana’s scouts follow you everywhere, too, or is it just a fun little thing for me?"

"Well, no. Not really. I’ve seen them tailing you, though.” the dwarf smirked briefly. “I’m glad they don’t follow me. The seeker said I'm free to leave, but…" he trailed off, staring into the snow.

Astra glanced at him curiously, a little bit worried by the pause.

"I feel like it’s my responsibility to stay and try to fix this, you know? There was red lyrium at the temple, remember? It’s probably spreading because my brother and I brought a bit of it aboveground in the first place. I can't just leave it be."

Astra paused, thinking back to the red pillars protruding from the ground at the temple. Varric had brought some of that out of the deep roads? Where had he heard of that before? "...Oh! The statue?"

Varric startled a bit, wide-eyed.

"I read your book of Hawke! A- a few times, actually." Astra quickly gave as an explanation. “Your books are in...pretty big demand in my clan.” He added, sounding embarrassed. To his relief, Varric only snorted a little in laughter at the words.

"It’s a small world. Yes, that damn statue. The source of all evil." Varric sighed, low enough that Astra had to strain to hear it, turning his head towards the voice. "I've sent word to every miner family in orzammar, nobody's seen red lyrium before. And now it’s here."

Astra frowned. "It does sound weird. If we come across more, we should destroy as much as we can."

"Agreed." the dwarf sighed, sounding frustrated. 

Astra didn’t want to leave the conversation to such a tense moment, so he spoke up again after a moment, staring deeply into the fire. "...So, like I said, I read the book you wrote of Hawke, and I was curious about a few things."

The hook seemed to work, as the dwarf laughed and turned towards Astra once more, curiosity in his eyes. “Yeah? Go on, I’m sure I’ve got some answers.”

They spent the next half hour talking about Alisa Hawke, her companions, and their adventures. Varric seemed amused by how interested Astra was in his tales, and Astra himself was a bit embarrassed afterwards, having just snowballed so many questions onto the man. But talking like this over a fire made him feel more like a new friend than a distant author whom he knew by name, which Astra appreciated immensely.

"-And that's how they began calling her the Champion of Kirkwall. Nice title, right?" the dwarf laughed, sounding fond and nostalgic.

"For sure. Speaking of, is it common for humans to come up with weird titles?" Astra grimaced. 

“Huh, they're calling you something weird, now?” Varric asked, confused. “It is pretty common though, better get used to it.” He grinned.

A voice from up on the side of the wall surprised them both. "Herald of Andraste, as far as I heard. Much like the chantry to name everything after themselves, even those who do not follow their religion."

Astra smiled at the sight of the other elvhen man climbing down to join them by the fire. He wondered how Solas wasn't cold in such a thin outfit, when Astra himself still shivered slightly with a blanket over his shoulders.

"Would herald of- uh, whatever that is, be better then?" Varric pointed at his vallaslin, pausing curiously. Astra smiled with amusement and shook his head.

"It’s Sylaise. And no, though I'd appreciate the thought behind the naming much more than bloody _Andraste._ ” He chuckled. “But my point is, I don't want to be the herald of anything. I don't represent the creators, I can't hear what they're saying. And I doubt this mark came from any kind of god, though it would be a relief to know it is here on purpose."

He noticed solas shift awkwardly, and glanced over, watching the man for a moment, until he spoke up, a bit hesitantly.

"I've seen many powerful things in the fade. Many of them, while having seemed like providence to history writers, have begun from coincidence. It is what you do with your power, that makes the difference."

Both Astra and Varric looked at the elf in confusion. "...in the fade? What do you mean?"

"Ah, my point of study focuses on the fade and its magic. I traverse the fade lucidly in my dreams, seeking history and long-gone stories from the old elvhenan, among other curious things." 

Astra's expression turned to open awe, so much so that Varric had to hide a burst of laughter at his sudden brightness. He was a mage, but this sounded far above his skill level. 

“How do you find memories there?”

"Spending time in one area of the fade requires one to be present in the real world as well, hence my travels.” Solas smiled briefly. “For example, I slept at Ostagar, and saw Warden Alistair and the Hero of Ferelden light the signal fire. However, in a different memory, I saw Loghain pull away his men to save them from ruin, while the wardens were too late on their signal."

Astra looked confused. "But both of those can't be true."

"That’s just it. In the fade, every memory is a truth to someone."

"So you sleep in old ruins, surrounded by dust and giant spiders?" Varric groaned. "I'm surprised you're still alive, Chuckles, that’s perhaps the most impressive part." Both elves turned to him at the nickname, both fairly amused.

"I put up wards of course, and if you leave out food, the spiders are usually happy to live and let live." The elven man smirked.

Varric shuddered, muttering something about being disgusted, while Astra snickered at the thought. His curiosity wasn’t sated, though.

"What about the demons? You can't bribe them with food."

"A demon is a spirit's wish to join this world gone wrong. In the fade, I traversed with spirits, those of wisdom, compassion. They were good friends, and I long since learned how to avoid the more aggressive ones, which you would call demons."

"You were… Friends with spirits? I didn't know that was possible." Astra mumbled, surprised.

"Not for anyone who only gets to meet them as demons on this side. But they are pleasant company in the fade, and very helpful people if you take your chance to ask, rather than demand."

Varric piped up. "People? They don't even have bodies, and from what i've seen they aren’t exactly great at thinking outside of their purpose. How can you have a proper friendship with a spirit?" He looked confused, and a little nervous at the idea.

"Do you need a body to be real? Is Cassandra defined by her cheekbones and not her wit? Are you defined by your chest hair?" He asked, making Varric choke on his response and Astra burst out in surprised laughter, before he muffled it into the corner of his blanket. Smiling, the elf continued. "Spirits are wonderful companions if you take the time to know them. I often prefer them to people on this side."

"Ugh, whatever. I don't want to talk philosophy with you." Varric grumbled, clearly not fully convinced. Astra picked up the conversation instead, shifting a little.

“You said you search for memories of elvhenan. Can you tell me about elven culture the way you’ve seen it?”

Solas paused, his humored expression turning a little more closed. “I suspected you might have wished to share _your_ views on elven culture. You are dalish, no?” 

Astra stared at him with confusion, before answering bluntly. “Proudly. Why do you say it with such distaste?”

“As I have seen it, the dalish have mangled so many things about their own history, and hang onto half-truths.”

“Oh, but you know better?” Astra deadpanned, his voice hostile, before he shook his head to clear his mind. “ _Ir abelas, lethallin._ We try our best with what has been left to us. Not everyone can delve deep into the fade to see the stories of our ancestors in full, and we have been wronged enough times to be suspicious of strangers’ information, no matter how accurate. I am sorry if our people have been rude to you.”

Solas paused, sighing and giving a little nod. “...Fair enough. _Ir abelas, da’len._ I should have known better, I suppose, than to expect the dalish to reach knowledge that is so far from their abilities.”

Astra rolled his eyes slightly, sighing. “Yes, yes, you’re the expert, don’t have to be a prick about it.” Regardless, he accepted the answer, since it was likely the closest they would get to an agreement. More so, he didn’t want to risk the one connection of kinship he felt in Haven, so far.

“I do have more stories, if you wish to know more of the fade?" Solas offered to Astra, who nodded without hesitance. Perhaps it was a way to make peace, nonetheless the distraction from their previous topic was appreciated.

"We need to be moving towards the Hinterlands in a few hours, but a few stories would be nice. If you've seen memories of it, could you tell me about the time of Arlathan? Of our ancestors. I'm sure the fade has much more knowledge left than the world over here." the dalish man asked, glancing a bit shyly at his fellow elf.

“Of course.” Solas nodded and began to spin a story of the ancient elves and their magic, of spells spanning years to cast, and the land of spiralling pathways through treetops. Astra sat quietly under his blanket, listening intently and trying to memorize everything. Varric listened more idly beside them, curious but deciding to focus more on brewing drinks by the fire. 

Two cups of tea for himself and Astra, and after Solas declined the third with a disgusted expression, one cup of coffee. 

It was a soft moment, the first Astra had actually enjoyed in Haven, so far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aneth Ara = a greeting  
> Fenedhis = a curse word, "shit", basically.  
> Andaran Atish'an = Enter this place in peace.  
> Mamala = grandmother


	4. To Val Royeaux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lace Harding!! <3  
> Letters are received and sent to the clan, and Cea makes a reappearance. Then we head briefly into Val Royeaux, and hear of Vivienne and the mysterious Red Jennies. *eyes emoji*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I moved apartments recently, so this chapter took FOREVER. I have a suspicion every chapter will take a long time though, since I tend to work on a million things at once :')

The chaos of the crossroads was clear to see as they traveled towards the campsite. Astra felt wary and uncomfortable with the threat of battle lurking behind every corner, but having cold, dewy grass under his feet and tall, looming trees covering him from sight made him feel a bit more at home.

A red haired dwarven woman was waiting for them at the inquisition camp, a bow strapped to her back and a determined yet friendly look on her face. She waved brightly before they even reached the tents, and walked to meet the small party of travelers.

“The Herald of Andraste! I’ve heard stories of you. There are few who haven’t, by now.” She spoke up as soon as they were close enough, a smile on her face. She took pause once he frowned at her words, looking a bit confused, but powered on after a short moment. 

“We heard what you did at the breach, serah. Thank you for that. Scout Lace Harding, at your service.” She gave a little bow, her smile returning. 

Varric made an amused sound, prompting Astra to glance at him curiously from the corner of his eye. "Harding, huh? Ever been to Kirkwall's Hightown?"

"I... No, I can't say I have. Why?" 

"Because then you'd be Harding in- ...agh, nevermind." He sighed, letting the half-finished joke pass its chance.

Astra couldn't stop himself from snorting in laughter, right on time to meet with Cassandra's groan of disgust. He attempted to hide the noise behind his palm and a cough after Harding's confused look, but failed well beyond any attempt at stealth.

"You're terrible, Varric." He whispered from behind his hand, holding in a laugh. The dwarf didn't look even a little sorry for his joke, and was grinning proudly instead. 

Astra turned to face Harding once more, and cleared his throat to be more serious (with arguable success), trying his best to look responsible again. “I’m kind of worried about the kind of stories you’ve heard, Harding. Hopefully nothing too bad?”

“Oh, nothing serious, just that you’re the one last hope we have to solve this mess. Simple stuff, really.” She shrugged with a grin, laughing along with his exaggerated shudder of disgust. “It’s surprising to see a dalish elf caring so much about human affairs, but you’ll get no backtalk here, that’s a promise."

“I mean, is it really a human affair when the sky is torn open?” He grimaced, motioning at the sky. 

It wasn't like he'd really had a choice anyway, even if the breach didn’t threaten everyone. But Astra kept the bitter thought to himself.

Harding gave a thoughtful noise as her gaze followed the wave of his hand towards the sky. “Fair point. Regardless, we’re glad you’re here. I- all of us here, we'll do our best to help you in any way we can.”

Astra smiled a little, glad for the support when the task ahead felt overwhelming and impossible. “Thank you. Any help is appreciated.”

“Mother Giselle is down at the crossroads, but it’s pretty chaotic down there. You’ll have to fight your way through, unfortunately. I hope you’re ready.” She continued, pointing towards the lower valley.

Sighing, Astra nodded, folding his arms. “I suppose we’re as ready as we’ll ever be.” He glanced for confirmation from his companions, receiving a quiet nod from Solas and a grunt of affirmation from Cassandra who had already taken her sword out, ready for the coming battle.

The group stayed out of sight by covering behind trees and rocky hills when descending to the crossroads, but the growing signs of battle between swords and magic was making it clear they could not just sneak in and out unscathed once they reached the center.

As soon as they were spotted, Astra heard Cassandra dash out of their hiding place and join in the fray yelling at them for backup. He gasped in surprise, still unsure with his reflexes in battle, and quickly looked over the others’ reactions. When Solas and Varric began throwing spells and arrow bolts at the dueling groups of mages and templars, he joined in by slamming the end of his staff on the ground, releasing a wave of wild, loud lightning that startled their enemies (and some allies) for a short moment.

Throwing shields over his companions and the innocent refugees whenever he had a free moment to do so, the elf finally felt like he was getting used to the rhythm of fighting. But when he missed his chance to send a barrier over a group of refugees, his heart jumped into his throat as he watched a stray spell from the rebel mages fly towards them. From the corner of his eye, he saw Solas pick up his slack with a hand outstretched, and sighed in relief as a green aura covered them just on time, repelling the attack. Astra turned back to his lightning spells with a jittery relief washing over him.

Fortunately the battles were made easier with inquisition scouts backing them up, and soon the area was cleared out of immediate fighting and stabilised for the refugees’ use. Astra wiped a splatter of mud from his cheek and looked around while Cassandra took the responsibility of speaking for the inquisition. Now that it was no longer in such chaos, Astra could see this area was actually quite a natural beauty, from the stone formations and hills to the endless trees and little rivers. 

If he wasn’t worried about the fighting and the breach, he might have considered this to be a nice place for a clan to settle in. Outside of the immediate crossroads, of course. The Dalish wouldn’t settle so close to the refugee settlements, unless trading was to take place.

Turning towards the healer’s area, Astra spotted a tall woman in a red chantry robe, quietly consoling the injured soldiers. That must be Mother Giselle. A slight worry enveloped him out of simple wariness, but he took a breath and began walking towards her, leaving the others to handle the scouts’ reports.

“-Surely, if put to noble purpose, their magic is no more evil than your blades. Be calm, and let them help you.” He heard the mother speak as he approached, and smiled a little despite his lingering worry.

“Mother Giselle? You wanted to see me.”

She looked up and smiled serenely at him, nodding as she stood up. “Yes, Herald. Thank you for coming. I fear the chaos has spread far already.” 

Astra gave a polite smile that was more of a grimace, and nodded. 

“I asked to meet you, firstly to say I would like to help your inquisition from within.”

Astra startled at the request. “Er, I don’t exactly make the decisions, but I’m sure we would welcome you.” A wary pause. “What you said to that soldier...you aren’t against magic?”

She smiled knowingly. “They look to you for strength and hope, your words have more power than you think.” She paused to listen to him, and shook her head. “The chant does not teach that magic is evil. It teaches that pride is evil, and it corrupts more than just mages.”

Surprised, Astra paused for a moment, considering her words. “Whenever I hear the chant, it seems to be pretty set on ‘magic is evil’.” He mumbled, avoiding her gaze. 

Mother Giselle’s expression fell just a little, and she sighed quietly. “Many twist the chant to fit their fears and desires,” she took his hand gently, and Astra breathed deeply as he listened, “-but the chant itself does not bear ill will for you, herald, or to your brethren in the clans or the circles. They say Andraste guided you to us, a dalish mage. What is that, if not a sign that all are welcome with their gifts, to the Maker’s side.”

Astra was unsure whether to be uncomfortable with the sentiment, having no belief over the Maker, or relieved that she at least was openly welcoming him (regardless of his lack of interest in joining) in the very organization that shunned his kind openly, both elves and mages.

She continued while he was thinking, letting go of his hand as her voice dipped into a more serious tone. “However as I said, not all agree on what the chant tells us. Right now, the chantry has denounced you publicly in their fear. I know my sisters, and I know their power is in their unified voice. If you can make them see you and your values as a person rather than an abstract ideal, you may change some minds, bring cracks into that unity.” She sighed. “They mean well, but they are panicking and making bad decisions in their haste.”

“You want me to go meet them?” Astra asked, confused and extremely worried. “I can’t possibly change their minds, just,- just look at me, I’m an elf, and not even a follower of the maker. They won’t listen to me, no matter how much you recite the chant’s ‘true meaning’ at them.” He spread his arms in a desperate motion, face twisting to distress.

“I see you, dear. I would not ask this if I thought you incapable. You need not convince them all. Simply bring doubt by putting a real face to the rumors they so fear, and that doubt will help you immeasurably.”

A nervous breath escaped him as he thought the idea over. “Fine. I’ll try, at least. We won’t get anything done if I don’t.”

The chantry mother looked pleased and stepped aside, glancing over to the refugees whose treatment she had been helping with. “I will stay for a moment yet and help, but you will find me in Haven once you return. I will provide the names of my sisters to your Sister Nightingale. I wish you luck, Herald.” She gave a little bow of her head, smiling contentedly before turning her focus back to the patients. 

Astra let out a deep exhale once her attention was away from him, and turned to locate his companions again. Ah, they were still with the scouts, going over plans and maps. He began walking towards them, only to be interrupted by a touch on his arm, and a hesitant male voice.

“Serah, please. You are with the inquisition, no?” He turned to meet the desperate eyes of an older elven man, one of the local refugees, it seemed.

“I- yes. What’s the problem, _lethallin?”_ He used the term by habit, even though he could see this man was not dalish. 

“Your people are heading south, are you not? Please, my wife is having trouble breathing - it’s a seasonal illness, our son makes a potion for it, but he’s gone with that cult in the mountains. I can’t leave her alone in her illness, else I’d go myself. If you’re going in that direction, could you give a message to my son, Hyndel?”

The man was now holding both of his hands with a hopeful look in his eyes. Astra paused, glancing nervously towards his companions and the scouts. They likely had plans already, and he could only guess how they’d like a detour to some mountain cult. But… this man was one of his own people, and he truly wanted to help. 

He suddenly remembered what Mother Giselle had said. _They look to you for strength and hope. Your words have more power than you think._ With a little breath, he set his jaw and turned back to the elven man waiting nervously for a response. Astra squeezed the man’s hands firmly, and looked him in the eye, smiling confidently.

“...Yes. Of course. We’ll find your son, and ask him for the potion. Please stay safe until then, _falon_.”

The look of relief he received from the man was worth any and all complaints he might receive from his companions. 

\---

“Well, you’re easier to persuade than I thought.” Varric laughed beside Astra as they walked back to camp, many small tasks and requests later, finally ready to return to Haven after stabilizing the area and gaining enough intel to make further plans for Val Royeaux. 

“Seems like you’re ready to help any and all who ask, no matter the importance of the task. Are you sure that is wise? One day you may find yourself chasing a farmer’s pets around the woods just because you didn’t have the heart to refuse, while the breach rips more and more rifts across the land.” Solas asked, walking on his other side. Astra simply sighed, folding his arms in mild embarrassment as he remembered the multitude of item-hunts and other little tasks he had agreed to in the Crossroads.

“I know how to prioritize, but in the clan, there wasn’t such a thing as an unimportant request. As the future keeper, I’m supposed to take care of _all_ my people. Not just some of them, not just who I deem deserving. I’m not with them, but it feels wrong to do differently here.” He mumbled, defensive. “Besides, we’re not exactly in a hurry right now.”

“It’s not a fault to care for your people, Lavellan. These little quests of yours did gain us an agent or two, so I suppose the goal was met nonetheless. We can return to the war table with good news.” Cassandra spoke out, a rare brief smile presented at Astra, which he returned warily. “Solas is right however, the easier you give in to little requests, the easier they will ask you, even for tasks they could handle themselves.”

Feeling like he was being scolded like a child, Astra took a deep breath and tilted his head to look at the sky, taking one last moment to enjoy the wooded scenery before the snowy peaks of Haven. The Hinterlands weren’t quite like home, but it was still beautiful here.

\---

Returning to Haven was strange, but the cold mountain air felt better than Astra had expected. It wasn’t home, but it was starting to feel like a base of some sort, far as he was from his actual home. Leaving his companions to their own business, he wandered away from the gate towards the trading post. 

He traded the pieces of armor and an old staff he’d found on their explorations (both his and Solas’ staves were in much better shape), but conversation didn’t last long once Seggrit let slip an unpleasant, all-too familiar nickname about Cea, the elven servant girl Astra had met before. Worried for her treatment, he made a note to talk to her again.

With a huff, he walked towards the tavern to at least enjoy the music drifting from the doorways, when Josephine caught up with him. A small smile brightened her face while the chilly air puffed her breath out into a little cloud. Astra couldn’t help but share a little bit of her cheer, though he was surprised to see her outside the room she had claimed as her office.

“Serah Lavellan! Welcome back,” She gave a nod of her head, pulling her cloak closer. “The others are already in the chantry. Do you have a moment to join us at the war table? You are vital to the inquisition, and we would appreciate your opinions in the discussions.” She asked, and paused, smile softening as she saw the hesitant look on his face. With a quieter tone, she added, “We have also just received a letter from clan Lavellan.”

Astra’s breath caught, and any plans of worming his way out of the shemlen politics fled his mind.

“I- yes! I’ll be there in a second! Let me just-” He fumbled for a moment with the supply bag he had meant to drop off at the little house he slept in, after visiting the tavern. “Agh, _ir abelas,_ forget it, let’s go.” He shook his head and held tighter to the bag, too much in a hurry to make the detour.

Accompanied with Josephine’s bright laughter he practically ran into the chantry, catching his breath at the war room door while the others looked pleased at his appearance. Leliana held out the letter for him before anyone could say anything, and Astra picked it up as fast as he could, the supply bag forgotten on the floor as soon as his fingers left it.

His heart swelled as he recognized the handwriting. Deshanna’s own, which was a surprise since the old woman’s hands had begun to weaken enough to make her rely on Rivra, her scribe, to write more than just copies of old texts and lore. Though she still insisted on braiding the children’s hair and more, stubborn as she was. 

Of course Astra wouldn’t have minded a letter from Rivra either, they were close as friends despite their brief past in a relationship, and technically they were still family as parents to little Nava. It was always good to hear from her. But Deshanna had taken the time to write this herself, which made it feel that much more personal. Though of course, nobody else in the room would know to appreciate the motion.

_____

_Greetings to the inquisition, and our best wishes for you in sealing the rift that tore the sky._

_We have received word that members of our clan have been taken captive by your inquisition. I’ve sent them only to observe the peace talks between your mages and templars, and find it highly unlikely they would intentionally violate your customs, as despite rumors we of clan Lavellan wish only to live in peace with humans._

_If a violation of your rules truly has happened, the clan wishes to hear of it. If not, we would like to hear from our family members to ensure they are staying of their own free will. We hope they have not come to harm._

_That is all I ask._

_\- Keeper Deshanna Istimaethoriel Lavellan_

_Ps. Astra, ma’nehn. Nava noticed you did not bring your apprentice outfit. She asked me to send the pieces along with the letter. Take good care of them, she’s put a lot of effort into decorating the gloves for you._

_My children, please send word soon, everyone misses you. We’ve sent supplies for you all, including Ellor’s spare bow and some of Maers’ extra potion herbs, in case you decide to stay and help._

_Do write back, dears._

___

Astra smiled a bit embarrassedly at the nickname written for him, re-reading the letter in depth before reluctantly handing it back to Leliana, who smiled a little in return and handed him the soft package that held his First’s outfit within. On top were two soft dalish gloves, a new addition to the outfit.

They held colorful, childish embroidery all over the back of the hands, pictures that he assumed were flowers, leaves, and a pair of halla horns. How cute. He pulled the gloves on, a smile fighting its way onto his face until it turned into a confused frown as his fingers hit something solid inside the glove.

A piece of paper was rolled inside. A message from his siblings, he saw as soon as he rolled it open. At this point, he could no longer fight the bright relieved smile, nearly forgetting he was in the war room with the advisors. He was glad they were letting him have this moment of quiet focus.

___

_Astra, you'd better be alive to get this._

_And you'd better come home as soon as you can, we're not losing you to that tear in the sky, or to that inquisition business. Keeper Deshanna is worried, and Yuni is looking more miserable every day. ...I’m worried too. Send word if you’re in trouble, we’ll come for sure._

_-Love, Andri._

\--

_Please be alright, brother._

_I should never have pressured you to go to the conclave. I'm sorry. Come home soon? At least send word._

_Nava’s doing fine, she’s worried about her babae like everyone else, but everyone’s telling her you’ll come back soon. I hope it’ll turn out to be true._

_Sylaise arlana’ghilas._

_-Yuni_

_____

Of course Andri would bluntly demand her brother home. Astra felt his heart soar as he read the familiar scribbly handwriting, emotion showing from her lettering. 

Yuni’s message made him pause for a moment, feeling homesick. _Let Sylaise guide you home._ Usually his older brother called upon Mythal whose vallaslin he bore on his face, but now he called upon Astra’s chosen deity instead. 

He noted the avoidance of Falon’din despite the god’s title as a guide, considering his association with guiding the _dead._ Yuni had always worried over his younger sibling, and now they were a continent apart during such uncertain times.

Astra had unfortunate news to break to the clan about his travel companions, but he was still glad he would be able to contact them at all. Turning to acknowledge the advisors finally, he hesitated for just a moment before speaking.

"I'll write a letter to go with the inquisition’s response, I should have it done by morning." He stated more than asked, knowing Leliana would send an official answer back to the clan. She nodded almost immediately, having expected the request.

“Of course. We’ll also send some supplies that will help your people. I’ve met dalish clans before, I understand they value actions much better than words.” Leliana spoke, an amused smile spreading on her face soon after. “Though Varric mentioned you’re a fan of his books.” She teased. In the background, Josephine let out a delighted gasp, while he could hear Cassandra sighing deeply, likely less than pleased by the revelation.

Astra made a flustered noise, covering his mouth to hide the embarrassed small smile flickering on his face. He was more than aware of the stereotype of the dalish being illiterate. There was nothing wrong with that, given their lifestyle, and not all in his clan cared to learn how to read, either, because they simply did not need the skill in their daily lives. But Clan Lavellan traded more often with humans, and with that came a steady stream of books and other texts, which many of his clan traded for with insatiable curiosity. 

”I- he’s...not completely wrong, but that’s a bit much.” He cleared his throat. “But what you said is true, we’re very practical people. I know I’ll always appreciate receiving books, as will many in the clan, but they only have so much space to store them. We usually trade the old books out for new ones to save space. If you really want to please them, with so many in the clan we’re constantly running out of spices and healing herbs.” 

His face fell a bit as he looked over to the supplies sent to them- to him, now, since his companions were not here to receive them. “I would like the clan to have these back, too, rather than use them for the inquisition. They have a lot of personal meaning.”

Cullen spoke up, lifting the aforementioned package down from the table. “We’ll send them along with the letter. We could always use supplies, but we aren’t so desperate that we’d take important mementos from your family.” Josephine nodded with a little sad smile on her face. She hadn’t been here during the conclave, but he was sure she knew the context of the items well enough as well.

Astra nodded in return, muttering a thanks as they smoothly moved onto the actual topic of his visit, the war table plans and Val Royeaux.

\---

[...]

_Keeper, you can’t imagine how good it is to hear from you._

_Before you worry further, I'm fine._

_They haven't hurt me, and the captive part no longer applies, they don’t suspect me for the rift anymore. However, a…mark?...Some kind of magic straight from the fade has attached itself onto me when the breach came to be, and these people need that power to close the rifts the explosion has created across the land._

_...As for Ellor and Maers, nobody survived the temple._

_I went back and buried what was left with cedar branches like you’ve taught me, but please do the proper funeral rites for them at home. I don't have the right supplies here._

_I wish they survived. Tell their families I'm sorry. Falon'din guide them._

_I̶ ̶c̶a̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶c̶o̶m̶e̶ ̶h̶o̶m̶e̶ ̶y̶e̶t̶.̶_

_I̶ ̶d̶o̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶k̶n̶o̶w̶ ̶i̶f̶ ̶I̶'̶l̶l̶ ̶e̶v̶e̶r̶ ̶b̶e̶ ̶a̶b̶l̶e̶ ̶t̶o̶,̶ ̶I̶ ̶a̶l̶r̶e̶a̶d̶y̶ ̶a̶l̶m̶o̶s̶t̶-̶_

_I'll try to come home as soon as I can, once this is over._

_I thought of running before, believe it or not, but if I go, these people are doomed. I may not like this situation, but they don't deserve that._

_They keep pushing the guidance of their gods upon me in their desperation to put meaning into this mess, and it's infuriating. Sylaise give me strength._

_I hope you're all well and safe. I'll send longer letters with more details when I have time to write more, I promised to have this out by morning. Tell Andri she can stop threatening people, and Yuni that it's not his fault, and I promise I'll do my best to come home safe._

_Tell Rivra I'm sorry to make her explain this to Nava without me, and…tell Nava I promise to come back as soon as possible. And that I love her, of course. And tell her thanks for the pretty gloves, I’ll be sure to wear them. (They’re adorable??? PLEASE ask the crafters to teach her more if she’s interested.)_

_-love, Astralis._

_Ps. I asked for them to send the supplies back to you, save for my own things. I hope they’re all here._

\---

In the following days the residents of Haven saw their herald dressed in his keeper’s apprentice coat, including the colorfully embroidered gloves that he wore with pride. The fond way he looked at them worked to soften the people’s image of the distant elf a little, and in response Astra found himself softening towards them as well. 

Though still awkward and hesitant, he took little moments here and there to chat with the villagers and help out with their daily errands, working in the little village until he was pulled back to the war table. Many found to their delightful surprise that their usually apprehensive and distant herald had the most delightful child back in the clan, of whom he spoke with an openly fond look on his face.

It was a slow day and Astra was glad for it for once, even though he was craving to go back out into the Hinterlands or anywhere new to explore. He had planned to go find Cea for many days now, but every time he tried, he was suddenly too busy to manage it in the preparations for Val Royeaux. 

Wearing his dalish outfit, he'd considered replacing his shoes with the more familiar leg wraps as well to feel more balanced and comfortable (after all, Solas seemed to be doing fine barefoot, why shouldn’t he as well?), but after a long and stubborn walk over the freezing ground, he'd had to relent and tug the offending boots back on, mumbling curses under his breath before finally beginning his search for the servant girl. 

He found her beside one of the houses, drinking from a steaming cup of tea.

“Hello, Cea!”

“I- h-hello, ser herald.” She squeaked out looking startled, and he noticed her fingers tightening around the cup.

“Just Astra is fine, remember?” He sighed with a fond exasperation. “How are you doing?”

“Um, I’m fine, serah Astra. It’s quiet, not much to do right now, other than to keep warm.”

“Good. Do you mind if I stay for a bit? I’ve had enough of the Val Royeaux planning for a while.” He sighed, folding his arms tiredly.

“No, not at all. It.. I’ve never been to Val Royeaux, but I hear it’s beautiful.” She said, still nervous about talking to him, but settled back onto her seat. Taking her example, he sat on a cargo box, glancing around the area out of habit.

“Me neither, I didn’t really leave the Free Marches much before this. I’m sure it’s pretty, though. It’s just the chantry mothers waiting to ruin me that’s less exciting.” He groaned, receiving a little startled smile from the girl, that she hid behind her cup.

“I’ve never been to the Marches either. What’s it like there?” Cea piped up, curiosity pushing aside some of her nervousness.

“Uh, well, each city state is pretty different, but I can’t really say much considering I never went _in them._ Might want to ask Varric more about that.” Astra shrugged a bit, before a little fond smile spread on his face. “The mountains and forests in between are beautiful though. And the plains were always my favorite, even if they were out in the open. It’s warm, too, unlike here.” He shuddered a bit, only half as a joke. Cea laughed nonetheless, the little clouds of her breath mixing in with the steam rising from her tea. 

He hoped she could have a chance to travel more someday, this mountain was a miserably cold place for anyone to stay in.

“...You know, I’ve been wondering, how old are you?” Astra asked, turning to her. 

As expected, she looked startled and a little terrified at the thought of talking about herself. Fortunately, it seemed she’d grown more used to his small talk by now. “I- um. I’m seventeen, serah.”

That made sense, but Astra couldn’t help the stab of protectiveness he suddenly felt for the younger elf, who’d been so afraid of him in the beginning.

“How do you like it in Haven?” 

She didn’t hesitate this time, to his surprise, and answered with an honest tone. “It’s fine enough, serah. Your people pay me well for a servant, and there’s less nicknames here than there was in Orlais.” Though there were still some, the hesitant tone in which she ended her words betrayed that much. 

Astra relaxed a little, though the mention of nicknames made his stomach churn with hate, knowing exactly what she meant. At least it seemed cruel words were Seggrit's worst part, for now. Hopefully others were the same. “Good. Otherwise I’d have to have some strong words with the people here.” He grinned, perhaps a bit of hostility in his expression, though none of it was aimed at her.

Cea responded with a shocked look, however, and quickly bowed again out of a reflexive habit more than anything, startling him. “I don’t mean to get anyone in trouble, serah! I meant nothing by it!” She squeaked, turned around swiftly and ran off, leaving him standing there a bit shocked and definitely confused. 

Astra sighed, resting his back against the boxes and running his green-hued fingers through the front of his hair, the anchor brightening with his frustration. This wasn’t what he’d meant to do.

Ah well, he’d better go back into the war table and try moving things along some more for their visit to Orlais.

There wasn’t a lot left to do, anyway. It should go pretty smoothly.

However, his frustration grew into a tired disbelief as he reached the chantry doors, and saw the local mages and templars arguing in groups, with Cullen trying to placate both sides and the _damn_ chancellor shoving his nose into it as well, with arguments and denials. The elf covered his face with his hands, taking a moment to prepare himself for the encounter, a long tired groan escaping him.

_Mala suledin nadan._

He hoped he could leave soon, if they were going to keep this up.

\---

Well, shit.

Val Royeaux was beautiful, just as Astra had expected, but things had not been as simple as they had thought, just like he’d suspected. When had things last gone as expected, exactly? Not since he’d entered Ferelden, that much was for sure. And now, after watching the templars march away from the chantry, an injured chantry mother left in their wake, the elven mage almost felt bad for the women whose meeting he’d so feared in the first place. They were a mess, but at least they were no longer a threat.

“So much for templar help.” Astra muttered, truthfully not at all disappointed about that part, though he was trying to sound so in the presence of the seeker. Indeed, Cassandra shook her head, still disbelieving his claim.

“I would not cut them out so quickly, herald. I know the Lord Seeker, he has always been one to negotiate with.”

“Mhm. Didn’t seem that way.” He commented, staring towards the gate the templars marched out of. He heard Cassandra make a frustrated noise in her throat, but she didn’t comment further. Varric on the other hand did.

“They were clearly waiting for us to arrive for this, so they could make a show of marching away. Classic story villain material.” He mused.

“This- Varric, this isn’t one of your books. Try to take it seriously.” Cassandra sighed, sounding tired. “But yes, they clearly wanted us to know they’ve left. It’s as if they want us to follow.”

“A mage herald walking straight into a templar stronghold? I’m sure you realize how unsafe that sounds, despite your claim of the Lord Seeker’s decentness.” Solas added, and Astra couldn’t help but nod in agreement, uncomfortable with the idea as well. To his relief, Cassandra did not argue further, and they let the topic be for now, to be resolved later around the war table.

Walking in the city square, the elf gazed up at the colorful banners and ribbons, and the painted walls of beautiful buildings. He felt out of place but also in awe at the details. His nerves faded away for a moment as he watched the scenery of the large central area. In his wandering around the square, he found himself casually agreeing to an Orlesian merchant woman’s plea to join them, and accepting an invitation letter from a noble that waved him over on behalf of Vivienne De Fer, the First Enchanter who worked with the Orlesian Empress. 

Huh, seemed like the inquisition’s name had spread quite far already. Well, considering the state of the circles right now, she might be a valuable ally. He’d have to save that thought for a bit later, after they left the city, but Astra hoped she might be able to give them pointers in how to approach the mage rebellion. 

Still in thought over the letter of invitation, he barely noticed the swooping sound of an arrow until it flew by in front of his face, startling him properly into a frightened step back, colliding with a confused Solas, who looked startled by the sudden change of direction. 

"SHIT- What was that?!" Varric yelled, staring up towards the arrow’s likely source with his crossbow already out and aimed. “An assassin?!” 

“No, there’s a letter on the arrow.” Cassandra commented, sounding wary while Astra reached to pick it up. Someone was trying to contact them without being seen.

"...Friends of Red Jenny." Astra spoke as he read the letter. Confused, he turned towards the others. "What's that supposed to mean?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Falon = friend  
> ir abelas = i’m sorry  
> ma’nehn = my joy, a fond nickname  
> Sylaise arlana’ghilas = let Sylaise guide you home  
> Mala suledin nadan = and now I must endure


	5. Tentative promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fiona enters the stage, and a bit later Astra exits the stage to go fuck off into the forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter, but I'm posting ch6 right after, since I originally wrote them as a single chapter! I'm trying to make these a bit more easier to read AND write, so I won't take half a year between each chapter lmao
> 
> Also, Astra and Cass are not the greatest of friends now since they started severely on the wrong foot, but they'll eventually get over it. I hope I'm not overdoing it sdfg they're just two very stubborn people.
> 
> I have an ongoing crisis about my writing bc I'm new and there's So. Many. Characters. but I hope you guys enjoy this!!

Searching through the corners of Val Royeaux for red fabric was certainly not the most productive thing he could be doing, Astra was sure of that, and a small part of him detested the task, preferring to just leave outright once their business with the chantry mothers was over. A much larger part of him, however, was too curious of the messages they bore, to let this go unsearched. 

They’d split into two searching pairs to be less obvious, Astra in one with Varric, and the Seeker leading the other pair with Solas, rather less subtly than the elf may have liked, judging from his silently suffering expression. Ah well, they weren’t doing anything illegal by walking down the streets. Astra could understand Cassandra’s priority in getting this done quickly rather than quietly.

To be fair, the search did lend him a chance to come across some very interesting local gossip, glancing at lost notes and open pages wherever he could, just out of curiosity towards the city and its people in their colorful, flashy clothes. 

And whenever he turned around, a certain dwarf was leaning over as well, notebook in hand and a pen flying across the pages. The fourth time it happened the elf stopped to wait, arms folded and his weight shifted to one foot as he leaned over the shorter man. “Why do you keep writing all this down, Varric? This one’s just an invitation some city-dweller gave to another, not to mention the time was marked last week.” He poked a finger at the little slip of paper, eyebrows furrowed confusedly, “We’re pretty late to crash that party.”

The book slapped closed with a chuckle from the dwarf. “Gossip from real life is the best inspiration for a writer, my good friend. And the Orlesians are a performative sort, you see, their meetings can tell you a lot even if you’re too late to eavesdrop. You can’t even imagine how interesting this stuff is, Grey.” He paused with a little laugh. “Well, I guess you can, I seem to remember you being all over the notes yourself only a minute ago.” 

The dwarf’s tone was teasing, and Astra felt his face flush in embarrassment. He huffed and stood up quickly again, avoiding Varric’s knowing gaze as he began walking towards their next destination.

“Oh, don’t feel pressured to admit it, just know that I know.” Varric called after him with a humorous tone before jogging after the elf. “In any case, some of this I’m writing down for our dear spymaster, I know Nightingale’s going to love this stuff. It’s scary what she can do with the smallest tidbits, and she knows Orlais better than I do, anyway.”

Astra turned slowly, curiosity taking over the embarrassment. With a little shuffle of gloves against his jacket, he folded his arms loosely, letting his feet lead him towards the docks, determinedly avoiding even looking at the still-present chantry mothers, who seemed to have a similar plan of ignoring him. “You sound familiar with spy work. I thought you were a writer?” 

“Ah, well, I do a bit of both. It’s better to have Nightingale handling the inquisition’s spies, I always end up babysitting mine. She’s frighteningly effective.”

Astra laughed, nodding a little. “It’s not a bad thing to care for your people. I’m sure your spies appreciate being important to you.” His soft smile almost turned into a light frown as he thought of the inquisition’s spies, rarely in sight even in Haven. Effectiveness often came with the sacrifice of taking care of one’s self and people, he could only hope that wasn’t the case with them.

Leliana had been kind to him, so… surely she cared for her people as well, in her own way. He didn’t exactly feel comfortable being the face of an organization that misused their people for their goals. Then again, when had he had a choice in any of this, anyway?

Varric shrugged. “Yeah, that’s what I’m going for, I guess. Oh look, there’s another red cloth, finally! We’re starting to gather more stares, I guess the Seeker and Chuckles didn’t go loudly enough after all.” He grimaced, watching Astra pick up and pocket the fabric. 

Focusing on reading the note helped the elf ignore the stares for a bit, though he shuffled his feet, looking restless, the toes of his foot knocking at the ground idly. It was warm enough here to go with leg wraps instead, like he was used to, but he’d given into the peer pressure of boots this time. He’d be happy once they were back in the woods, and he could set them aside again.

...It was high time to return to camp and eat something by now, to give everyone a chance to rest their nerves. The delicious smells of various restaurants didn’t help in the slightest.

Fortunately, soon enough Cassandra and Solas joined them, victoriously holding out the last of the red fabrics, and all four of them returned to the front gate in relatively good spirits, finally out of the immediate line of sight of everyone in the city. 

The three notes together showed a location marked just outside of the city, a small passage between buildings. It looked like a good hiding place, but for what? He could only guess.

Before their treasure hunt began earlier, Astra had begrudgingly agreed that he’d visit First Enchanter Vivienne in the palace tonight, before starting on the way back to Haven. While it would be safer to go in numbers, it would be likely to cause a scene, especially when the invitation specifically only mentioned the Herald of Andraste.

_Ugh. That title really wore at the edges of his patience._

The rest of the team would be waiting outside with some inquisition soldiers from the camp, in case anything went wrong, but it was best if Astra went to negotiate with her one-to-one. He was understandably nervous, but while he wasn’t very knowledgeable of Orlesian nobles, he _was_ a future keeper of his clan. He could do talking and negotiating, he was raised to represent his people. Even if the people he was representing now were a freshly started organization with a slowly growing force of soldiers, and not simply a rather large collection of intertwined elven families.

The Red Jenny location was marked nearby, but Varric, having experience with nightly strolls hunting for mysterious markers with Hawke, had suggested it was best left for after the palace, “in case it got messy”. As much as Astra wished he could postpone his venture into the palace as long as he could, he had to agree. So the group prepared to depart the beautiful city and return to camp.

Or so they meant to, until a voice called out behind them at the gates, stern but not unfriendly.

“Excuse me, agents of the inquisition!” 

Astra was re-reading the invite as he walked, and turned to look back mere moments after the others, surprised to see a fellow elf standing before him. Cassandra on the other hand recognized the older woman with ease, a surprised look on her face. “Grand Enchanter Fiona?” 

The Seeker looked both wary and curious of her presence, which was mirrored on both Solas and Varric’s postures as well. Astra too had taken a step back, not in apprehension but a healthy dose of wariness from everything that had already happened just today. He hadn’t known her face, but he knew her name well. Why was the leader of the mage rebellion here?

Despite his curiosity, he stayed quiet and listened.

"What are you doing here?" Cassandra asked, her brows furrowed in confusion, "It is suspicious enough that you were not at the conclave, why are you out here and not with the mage rebellion?"

Fiona simply laughed, briefly and humorlessly, as she nodded in agreement. "Right. I sent an assistant in case it was a trap, and now I am glad I took the precaution, for I lost many dear to me in that terrible event. As you'll notice, the Lord Seeker sent someone in his place as well. It was a simple precaution.” She spoke with a tone that implied this being obvious. “As for why I am here, I wanted to meet the inquisition’s people.” 

She paused, considering while her eyes traveled over all of them in turn, settling on Astra with a little nod towards her fellow elven mage, “And you, specifically, Lavellan." 

Astra felt like every question in his mind was stalling on its way out, unprepared, and in the lack of answer she continued speaking, watching his hesitant expression. "The Herald of Andraste is a mage. How could I not be interested?” He could hear the tone of negotiation in her voice. Reflexively, he took a deep breath and squared his shoulders back, at the last moment becoming aware of his hand gripping onto his other wrist nervously, and tugged it away as he focused on her, nodding lightly at her to continue.

“If you are willing, I would invite you to meet with the free mages in the town of Redcliffe. I understand you mean to close the breach, an admirable goal.” Her eyes never left his, even when she paused to let him consider her words. “We have the spellpower for your needs, and we are ready to use it to help your inquisition, if we can come to an agreement. Both our people could benefit from mutual cooperation."

Astra shifted curiously and glanced downwards at the cobblestones, folding his arms as he considered the invite, trying not to show too much of a reaction. "I have to admit I'm not well-versed in circle politics, but I do understand where the mages’ actions spur from." He sighed, meeting Fiona’s eyes once more, purposefully avoiding looking at his companions. "I would like to cooperate, but I can’t guarantee the inquisition itself will stand behind my decision. But I promise this; even if our advisors make a different decision, I will come and talk with you, at the very least."

He waited for her response with the same nervous bravery as when he’d held the hands of that refugee in the Crossroads, promising him their time and a detour. This time he could hear words of protest to his selfishly made promise, but stubbornly ignored them.

Fiona smiled, just a little more genuinely, and nodded. "That is all I ask. We await you in Redcliffe, Herald Lavellan. I will be pleased to meet you again." 

With a little nod, Astra watched her turn and leave. Only once she was gone did he turn back to the group, sighing as he reached his hands across the shortly shaved sides of his head, closing his eyes briefly as he ran his fingers under the long, dark hair draped over them. It lessened his growing headache just a little.

“Let’s go. We can argue at camp, if you’re set on that.” He groaned, hoping they could hold the tense silence at least until they all had food in front of them, settled by the fire. Hunger and stress never were a good addition to any kind of discussion.

And argue they did, the mood tense and on the edge after their city visit. 

Astra held his bowl on his lap, staring deep into the stew in an attempt to tune out the conversation, regardless of the verbal prodding of Cassandra across the fire, clearly unhappy and agitated by his silence. He’d promised her an argument, but he really wasn’t feeling like taking part in it, now that they were settled at the fireside.

“-We should have spoken to the advisors before making a decision, you know that.” 

In the proceeding silence, while the elf barely reacted, Varric gave a long-suffering sigh from his spot by the fire, busy with brewing them hot drinks. He stayed silent aside from that, but clearly listened.

“You realize she is expecting our cooperation now, that you’ve promised to meet with her. If the knowledge of your work with the mage rebellion goes out into the public, it could cost us our chance of cooperating with the templar order.”

Instead of Astra answering to her worried prodding, it was Solas who spoke up, sounding tense himself. 

“I understand your worry, Seeker, but as I brought up before, an elvhen mage going to the templars’ base at a time like this, even for discussion of cooperation, is extremely risky. While I too agree that we should have spoken with the advisors first, I do not fault Lavellan for taking his chances with the mages while he was given the opportunity.”

Astra glanced at him from the corner of his eye, letting out a deep breath as steadily as he could. Perhaps it was childish to keep silent, while the others argued for him, but he could not muster the will to speak. Cassandra paused to consider the other mage’s words, and continued a bit more calmly now that her prodding was finally answered by someone. 

“It could be a trap waiting for us all in Redcliffe, you know whoever was behind the conclave explosion is still out there somewhere. An invitation given that plainly is more than suspicious.”

Astra grimaced at her, and scoffed, finally finding his voice. “Considering what Solas just said, I’m really not that upset if meeting with the mages would lose us the templars, I would _love_ to cooperate with the people I actually understand and trust.” He finally glanced at Cassandra, though briefly, his brown eyes flicking between her and the fire, the reddish purple tint of underlying magic more visible in them in the flickering firelight. “-But what I promised her today was just a meeting to listen to her offer. You think she wouldn’t make the discussion more difficult later if we just dismissed her today?”

He paused, glaring at the Seeker. Finally talking should in theory have made Astra work through his frustration in a productive way, but her doubts were instead just making him angry. “While you’re at it, why not throw those same suspicions at the templars? You saw the Lord Seeker today, did you not? He’s not one I would willingly trust, after that scene. Who’s to say _they_ won’t have a trap cast for us? Just because you knew the Lord Seeker-”

“-The Lord Seeker was a good and honorable man last I saw him, he can be spoken with! His people have always had proper self control and diligence, they-” She was getting worked up as well, but startled when Astra pushed himself roughly to his feet, spilling a bit of his stew on the moss as he set it on the stump beside him. 

“Unlike us mages, yeah? We’re in danger of exploding into abominations at the slightest distress, no?” He bared his teeth at her, the red vallaslin scrunching up on his cheeks, hostile all the way from his tone to his posture. “ _Pala adahl’en,_ Seeker. There’s plenty here.” He snapped, motioning at the trees around them. 

Perhaps he was jumping into conclusions, but he was frustrated from the day’s events, waiting in frightened anticipation for the palace visit, and now all that surfaced as anger. He bent to grab his bowl once more, stepped over the seat behind him (he’d been sitting on the ground in front of it), and quickly walked deeper into the woods with uncharacteristically heavy steps, likely to find some little corner to finish his food in peace. 

Back in the camp, Cassandra made a frustrated noise, and after a moment left the fireside as well, stepping inside her tent. 

Abandoned at the fireside with an awkward silence and a few nervous inquisition scouts sitting nearby, Varric and Solas sighed almost in unison, the elf running a hand over his face in frustration before resting his cheek on his palm, while the dwarf made a noise of tired acceptance, picking up the pot of water from the fire. 

“That sure was a fun conversation, reminds me of the Kirkwall crew, never a silent moment with those guys.” He deadpanned, and motioned at the elf with the pot. “...Tea?”

“...No thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pala adahl’en: go fuck a forest
> 
> \---  
> Reasons for taking so long: I moved apartments, took part in OC-tober art challenge, and the rest was just me running out of energy, honestly. *shrug emoji*
> 
> Next chapter: Vivienne and Sera! Lots of dialogue!


	6. Court adventures and new friends (?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vivienne and Sera enter the play. Astralis Lavellan is very Tired and hopes that his visits to the court are now done (oh honey you've got a big storm coming).

Hours later, a very nervous Astra stood outside the palace, about to enter the First Enchanter’s party. 

Unfortunately he was still in his traveling clothes, having unfortunately not known to prepare anything better for the journey. If he knew, he’d have dressed in his Keeper’s apprentice outfit and dalish accessories just to spite the nobles. Fortunately he’d at least had the chance to clean up in the river and re-braid his hair once he’d calmed down from the argument with Cassandra. The braid was spun up into a bun at the back of his head, the soft undercut below now visible on both sides, though the faint scarring beside his right ear was tactically hidden by loose strands of hair left out of the braid. As long as he didn’t have to run or fight, he could somewhat hide the obvious disadvantage to all the hidden daggers in the palace.

He’d given his staff to Solas for safekeeping in case trouble broke out, so he could quickly get it back once they ran in after him. Astra trusted the mage to handle it with the most care out of all three of his companions. The wooden staff was very dear to him, though perhaps he should consider swapping it out to a sturdier piece, one he wouldn’t have to worry about breaking in the field.

His companions would all be waiting outside, watching with the scouts. Varric had insisted that Astra hid a knife under his jacket, all the while talking about all the attempts on Hawke’s life in the past, in the most mundane situations. This was far from mundane, so Astra had eagerly accepted.

Sure, he could always use his magic without a weapon, but it was easier to aim and focus with it. Especially now, with the green mark on his left palm. Astra practiced his spells both with and without a staff, and he’d noticed a stark difference ever since coming to stay in Haven and gaining the strange mark. It felt like it was interfering with his magic output. It happened less when he had something to draw the spell’s energy into, like his staff. It was unnerving, and he’d made a habit of wearing gloves to lessen the effect. And if that hid the green mark from sight? Well, that wasn’t an unwelcome thing by any means.

“You all set? Try not to be an open book in there.” Varric commented, while Astra checked - for what felt like the hundredth time - that his clothes were clean, nothing was out of place, and that he remembered all the instructions they gave him for the palace. Most of them he could sum into a simple _‘don’t make a mess.’_

“I’ll try. I just hope they won’t burn a hole through me with their stares. Imagine what they’ll think, an elf walking in as a guest, not a servant.” He gave a bitter laugh, smoothing over the hem of his jacket once more, before sighing loudly, straightening up. “Okay. I’m not getting any readier than this. Best just go and be done with it.”

Accompanied by Varric’s amused chuckle he turned towards the door, but felt a sudden hand at the back of his shoulder. Blinking in surprise, he saw Cassandra’s stern face looking at him. Confused and a bit wary, he met her eyes, wondering what she wanted now.

“Before you go, Herald- Lavellan. About earlier.” Her face was unreadable, and a moment’s bitterness overcame him at the thought she would continue the argument now of all times. He’d been trying not to think about it while preparing for the palace, but perhaps... perhaps she just wanted acknowledgement that he’d acted on his own, and then she’d let it - and him - be?

“I’m sorry-” They both began in unison, before pausing, surprised. There was a moment’s tense silence, before Astra burst into startled and relieved laughter, the Seeker following suit with a little confused chuckle. 

“I’m sure we’ll clash time and time again yet, but let’s agree to let that one pass, no?” He spoke out, his posture relaxing again with the relief.

She nodded, the stern look returning, though less harsh now. “Of course.” She paused, and shook her head, seemingly to clear her thoughts. “I have known good mages, I did not mean to undermine your personal self control. You have, after all, stayed with us to help despite your forced start as a prisoner.” Cassandra’s face took a little wry smile onto her features, as she averted her eyes. “My teachers always said I am too brash, and I did not believe them, in the face of fixing problems. I suppose this time I was too brash to speak, however, and insulted you.”

“Mmh. I did react to what I thought was coming, not what I heard, I’ve got to admit that much.” Astra folded his arms, taking a deep breath before he lost his nerve. “I know you’re trying to help with the templar order, but I don't feel safe going to them while we have other options. I- I understand my comfort is a minor thing when faced with the breach, but… they have just as much chance of being a trap, especially if the Lord Seeker is acting differently from usual...” He sighed, eyes flickering up at her tiredly. “...Can we continue this with the advisors?” However much he appreciated her trying to clear up the air before he went in, he could feel his focus scattering to the winds yet again.

“Of course. Good luck in the palace, Lavellan. Don’t let them intimidate you.” She gave his shoulder a pat, which honestly felt more comforting than he’d expected. Astra gave a little half-smile in return, trying his best not to let the nervousness return.

He finally walked into the building, and remembering his training as a keeper's apprentice, straightened his back with a sharp breath, and placed a tense, yet calm expression on his face, trying to be as unreadable as possible while walking across the hall. Though he hoped he didn’t show it, he strongly wished he could blend into the walls instead of meeting with the eyes of every noble in the room. Deshanna had taught him and her second apprentice Rissa, how to deal with the more ~~_stuck-up_~~ tradition-oriented keepers without offending anyone, but the nobles here were on a whole another level of rules and cues.

As with the people arriving before him, a guard announced his arrival in Orlesian while he was walking through the door.

_“Astralis Lavellan, of the Dalish in the Free Marches. Representing the inquisition.”_

So proper. Back home he’d simply introduce himself face-to-face to whoever he was talking to, he didn’t really see the point of having someone yell everyone’s names out in the first place. It was embarrassing and interrupted everything in the room. He could hear hushed conversations of nobles questioning his arrival, as well as likely many other things related to him and the inquisition. Unfortunately, it was all in Orlesian, which made the ambient conversations hard to follow, his skill level with the language limited to a few trade sentences that he rarely even used. He’d best ask someone to help him learn more, if they were going to be working this closely with Orlais in the future. Perhaps Leliana, if she had time. In contrast with his lack of fighting experience, he was fairly skilled with texts and languages, surely he’d learn fast.

Oh, he wished someone were here with him, even just for moral support. Astra was used to the clan observing his actions, but this was a palaceful of noble shemlen, judging every glance and twitch of his fingers. Suppressing a shudder, he walked steadily towards the stairs, keeping his eyes off the people, though he found himself watching the decorative wall ornaments and pillars on his way, the bright shine of everything feeling nearly blinding.

He barely got across the hall when a pair of nobles walked up to him, seemingly completely ignoring the slight panic flashing in his eyes for a moment. Thankfully, they began in the trade tongue, though the Orlesian lilt was clear to hear. Then again, he had an accent of his own from the Marches and the Dalish, too.

“Are you the herald? Oh, I never imagined the Maker would send us an elf, this is so fascinating! It is a pleasure to see a new face for a change, seeing the same people in every outing gets tiresome after a while. Have you come to meet Duke Bastien, or are you here for Madame de Fer?” The questions kept coming, and to his dismay, Astra found himself confused by them all. 

_Duke Bastien, Madame de Fer? Should he know who they were?_

“I- um. I’m not sure who you mean. I was invited here by First Enchanter Vivienne.” He gave a little delayed bow of his head, hoping he didn’t look ridiculous. He wasn’t sure how he was to find the First Enchanter from here, so it probably wouldn’t hurt to humor them for a moment as he got settled into the area.

“Ah, you see, Madame de Fer is a fond nickname the court has given Lady Vivienne. I hear she finds it amusing.” The man answered, his light voice holding a flicker of amusement. Astra swallowed whatever response he’d had and nodded, hiding a little nervous laugh as the woman continued with a curious voice. 

“I’ve heard the most curious tales of you, Herald. I wonder how many of them are true?”

Astra winced a little, though deep within he was curious to know what exactly people spoke of him out here. Scout Harding already warned him of the stories before so he knew word traveled fast, but this place felt so separate from the rest of the world as he knew it. He was sure the simplest things would be blown off-proportion in the usual Orlesian fashion.

“Ahah, um. I’m sure they’ve exaggerated a fair bit.” He chuckled awkwardly, hoping the denial wouldn’t be taken badly. He couldn’t see their faces behind the masks, but their tones showed a little disappointment.

“Oh, that cannot be true. Everyone tells of such amazing adventures!”

Astra simply let her have the last word of that discussion, glancing up as heavy steps approached from the stairs next to them. His eyes met with the descending man’s, masked as all the rest, and immediately the stranger addressed him, loud voice dripping with distaste.

“Herald of Andraste! Psh, what a joke.”

...Well, it was a nice change to finally find someone who agreed with him on that. Astra almost laughed, watching the man approach, still speaking with venom in his voice.

“-Washed up sisters and crazed seekers, and now an uncivilized apostate from the forests? No-one can take that seriously.” The man continued, walking with long strides towards the elf, who now looked rather offended, despite his attempts of rearing back any physical show of a reaction. It was tough, this time. Astra quietly ground his teeth, frowning before he remembered that unlike everyone else here, he was not wearing a mask. He couldn’t help feeling angry at the words, Leliana had been kind to him, and while he wasn’t in the best of ways with Cassandra with their less-than-pleasant first impressions of each other and differing views, she was a valuable ally, and he did not enjoy hearing such slander of either of them. 

“You do not care for us, I see. But why should I care for _your_ opinions?” Astra tried the waters a bit, warily. Instead of answering, the man circled around him, his posture betraying the glare behind his mask. Astra turned with him, keeping the man steadily on his left side. Best not to miss anything he was saying, and anger him more. Besides, he’d been warned of hidden blades in the nobles’ parties.

“Everyone knows your inquisition is just a way for political outcasts to grab power in the pretenses of holiness.” He spat. 

Astra sighed. Here they went again. He could see the other nobles watching them curiously, and a bit shocked, from the sides. For that, he spoke a bit louder, hoping they would finally take the hint. “I make no claims to holiness, as I keep trying to tell people. We’re only trying to fix this rift and restore peace.”

The man looked joyous at his words, jumping ahead and nearly making the elf take a startled step back. “Ha! He admits it! You’re only a fake, coming to restore peace with an army.” That, Astra had to admit, made him wince within. Their goal was to protect the people from the rift, but it was true the inquisition was raising power through soldiers. He could only hope that once their current goal was done, it would not turn to conquer. He wanted no part in that.

“We know who you truly are, elf.” The nobleman continued in his opponent’s silence. “Were you a man of honor, you’d step outside and answer these charges!” 

The man moved quickly to draw two daggers, and Astra reflexively took a few quick steps back. His left hand lit up bright with a flickering green glow spreading through his glove as he held it out towards the man, while the right one lifted up over his shoulder where his staff- wasn’t. _Fenedhis._ He should have gone for the knife instead, but muscle memory led his hands to the familiar weapon by reflex.

But before the man could attack, the sharp scent of chill enveloped their part of the room. A split second later the nobleman was struggling to move with a layer of frost covering his entire upper body, his eyes moving wildly behind the mask, afraid. Astra felt a strange deja vu seeing the scene, only this time it wasn’t a furious Deshanna who walked to the frozen man with her palms crackling with the same frost, but a decorated woman of the court slowly descending the stairs. And instead of a templar, this man was simply a nobleman with daggers. 

He took a shaky breath and let his arm fall back to his side, doing his best to push the memory from his sight, and focus.

“My dear Marquis... How rude of you to bother my guests with such threats.” The woman spoke, her voice sending a slight chill through Astra as well, though he was glad for the interruption. This must be the first enchanter, who else would be using magic publicly in the court, especially now with the mage rebellion going on across the land? Her outfit certainly fit in with the rest of the party, flashy and decorative, all the way to her silver headdress and mask.

Astra watched with a sense of morbid curiosity as the nobleman’s tone changed instantly from brash and hateful to frightened and pleading, when faced with her. “M-madame Vivienne, I humbly beg your-”

“Oh, save your pardons to our guest, as you should.” The First Enchanter interrupted him, voice disappointed and dangerously sweet. “Whatever am I to do with you, dear? Were you hoping to prove yourself by fighting the Herald of Andraste, to save face from the fact that the chevaliers left for Markham this morning, and you’re still here? Or were you hoping he would put you out of your shameful misery?” There was a flicker of humor to her voice, which made the man feel like less of a threat. It was… strange, but also nice to see a fellow mage in such a steady standing with the humans. From what Astra knew, it was rare. The mention of the Free Marches made him feel a bit homesick, but he shoved that thought aside before it could distract him further. 

Startled from his thoughts when the first enchanter turned to him, he stood a bit straighter, his eyes widening slightly.

“My dear man. You are the wounded party in this affair. What would you wish to be done with the marquise?”

Astra blinked, surprised, taking a second to think. “Er. I believe he’s already learned his lesson. Do as you wish, I do not wish to go against the rules of the court.” He spoke out smoothly with a little bow of his head at her, praying to the creators that he hadn’t just given her leave to kill the man. As much as he felt apprehensive about these nobles, he did not want his first (and hopefully only) visit to the court to be colored by murder. 

To his relief lady Vivienne only nodded with a little smile, and snapped her fingers to unfreeze the man, who promptly slipped away from the floor without another word.

“Now then, my dear. Shall we move to speak elsewhere? I would like your full focus,you seem rather… distracted by everyone here.” He knew she was offering privacy for the sake of their topic, but it was nice to have the excuse out anyway. 

He nodded quickly. “Yes, it’s, er- new, all of this. I would appreciate a quiet place to talk.” 

With a small wave of her hand, and a nod of farewell from him to the pair that was speaking with him earlier, Astra followed Vivienne up the stairs and across the upper hall to a separate room. He stopped to stand much less awkwardly beside her at a window, facing the late evening yard. There was no snow this far off the mountains, but the sky was dark blue, the color so intense that it seemed to dye the entire yard blue with its hue. The hahrens back home always call this time of night the blue hour, he remembered. It was always a source of comfort for the ones staying outside their aravels during the late evening, feeling like time had stopped for a moment before night truly fell. 

Seeing it from the window now helped him settle his nerves before turning towards the First Enchanter, a much calmer state of mind taking over him. To his surprise, he was met with a glass held out at him by the first enchanter, with a matching glass in her other hand. A pale liquid, probably wine of some sort. He hadn’t seen her pick it up from any servants, but… ah, there was a little table behind her here. She’d planned to lead him out of the hall in the first place.

“I hope the evening has been to your liking, my dear.” She spoke once he met her gaze, reaching to take the drink and staring into it warily. “I apologise for the marquise, He has been a problem before, but I doubt he will be trying again. He has more than dishonored himself with this behavior, it is likely he will be disowned.” She watched his eyes fall to the drink yet again, and laughed. “It’s not poisoned, my dear. Nor is it strong in the slightest, these parties would be chaos if everyone were senseless, and I am not petty enough to inebriate my guests to get my desired results from this discussion. Drink away, and relax a little.”

Astra smiled a little, shaking his head as he sipped on the drink, surprisingly soft in taste. “I- I didn’t mean to imply that. It’s just been a long, wild day. I’m glad for your assistance, Lady Vivienne, I did not want to begin a fight in the entrance hall. That would not be great for the inquisition’s impression.” They shared a little laugh, before he spoke out again. “Why did you call me here? Why not talk with our advisors, or...” He began, though he already knew the answer, much as he tried to deny it. He sipped on the wine as he waited for her response, and was happy to find that while it wasn’t strong, as she’d said, it did bring a certain warmth alongside the pleasant taste. He was glad for some distraction from his nerves.

“Because you are the Herald, my dear.” She smiled, stating the obvious. “I wish to be a part of your inquisition, and though you do not lead it, you are its face with your hope of closing the breach.”

“Right…” Astra sighed, his faint frown deepening at her amused expression. “Alright. Would you provide us help from the free mages, or the court?” He did not mention that they already had a route to the mages, remembering Cassandra’s warnings of the word getting out. Best be careful.

“Oh, dear no, I am not with those rebel mages. The last of the loyal mages follow me, as their foolish brethren run off to war with the world. As for political assistance, I know the court extensively, and I am familiar with its people. My presence will help your discussions significantly.”

“I see. And what would you gain from this exchange, Lady Vivienne?” He folded his arms, a bit puzzled at her implied support of circles. Then again, he didn’t know nearly enough to judge her just yet. She was a circle mage after all, and knew the system more familiarly than he did as a dalish mage.

“A place with the decision making, of course. I wish to see where this inquisition is heading, and to be a part of guiding it forward to success.” She glanced out of the window, giving him a short moment to think.

“Of course.” He mumbled under his breath. Then, more loudly, “Well, I can’t say having help in the politics with Orlais wouldn’t be welcome. Would you be joining us on the field, or providing aid from the palace?” 

She chuckled, her voice holding a wry tone. “With my fellow mages rebelling and ruining our good reputation, I would be glad to get out of the watchful eye of everyone here. If you accept my offer, I will meet you at Haven at the earliest possibility.”

“Alright. We’ll be heading back in the morning, and likely heading out again soon after, but there is always someone back in Haven. If we aren’t there, our advisors will have you settled.”

“I look forward to our cooperation, my dear.” She smiled, and sipped her drink with a mischievous glint to her eyes as he watched his nearly empty glass. “Would you be opposed to a souvenir of this to your headquarters, as I arrive? You did help me be rid of a _very annoying_ problem today.” Her tone made it clear she was talking of the nobleman from earlier, and Astra couldn’t help but let out the light laugh that escaped him, voice cracking a little with the relief as he spoke.

“ _Not in the slightest._ ”

\---

“Well, it went relatively well. Lady Vivienne has promised to meet us in Haven. I think she’ll be helpful.” Astra shrugged, once he finally met with his companions again, outside the palace. He was already tugging his braid down from the bun, now that he no longer needed to posture for the court, and reached out to take his staff back from Solas’ outstretched hand.

“Good job, Grey. We’ll make a courtsman of you yet.” Varric teased, ignoring the huff and glare he received from the elf. “It’s late, but we can still make it to the mystery meeting while it’s dark, as was requested. Are you up for it?” he continued, reading over the red-marked messages yet again. 

“Definitely. I need something to get my mind off the court, that was terrifying.” Astra grimaced, prompting a laugh from the dwarf. “A nightly little adventure sounds fun, no?” He stretched a little. He was feeling a bit more relaxed after his talk with Vivienne, but the stress from before would not just disappear in a snap of his fingers. He could get used to adventuring, if he’d never have to set foot in a nobles’ party again. 

That was likely a hopeless wish, but he could try. Maybe he could bribe someone to go in his stead next time. Surely once they had decided on a leader for the inquisition, they could go in his stead.

\---

Roughly an hour later...

“YOU! You must have used massive resources to find ME! Tell me how you did it!” The strange man practically screamed at Astra, who stood wide-eyed and baffled at the doorway. He just barely moved aside on time for a fireball to fly past him. The doorway was rather small, it was difficult for the ones in the back to see past everyone in front. Behind him, Varric let out a little surprised noise at the sudden movement of Solas tugging him backwards by the neck of his coat, out of the sudden fire’s way. 

Side-stepping to spin against the wall at the second fireball, Astra felt his back hit the stone rougher than he meant, and swayed a bit before finding his balance. He cast a barrier in front of them all, turning to Varric. “Who the _hell is this?_ ” his voice was strained from confusion, turning into a quick, loud whisper. To answer him the dwarf only shrugged, looking nonchalant and all-too-used to this. Well, now that he thought about it, this did sound like it fit right in with things the Champion had been through in the streets of Kirkwall, with Varric beside her.

“I don’t even know who you are! You don’t have to attack on sight, you-” He yelled his frustrations out at the man, before hiding behind his magic shield once more as yet another fireball flew at them. Astra felt like he wanted to scream.

“Don’t lie to me, herald! I am too important for your inquisition not to take notice, why else would you be here?” The man yelled back, seeming frustrated when his actions were only raising confused chatter within the group.

Meanwhile, a guard fell dead onto the stairs, unnoticed in all the noise.

“This is so _stupid_ , what are you even on about!?” Astra yelled back once more, letting his companions pass him to take the front, while he focused on keeping the barrier around them. “By the _fucking_ Dread Wolf! Stop attacking us and we can talk!” He yelled louder at the man, finally losing his patience when another spell flew into the barrier. 

“He doesn’t seem like the sort to listen.” Solas commented from beside him, patting a hand at Astra’s shoulder in an attempt to snap him back into focus. He sounded strangely amused, though it did not reflect in his posture towards their opponent.

The man across the small yard opened his mouth to likely deny everything and throw yet another fireball, but a crash of metal armor against the stony ground pulled his attention to the upper walkway, and the sparks of red died out in his hands. All the noise in the area delayed Astra from realizing what was going on, until he followed the man’s gaze to where another guard laid dead, an arrow through the gap in his armor.

“Dead one says what!” a cheerful young voice called out, before anyone could react.

The man looked confused towards the still-hidden figure, “What is the meaning of-!” and promptly fell to the ground with an arrow sticking out of his face. Astra stepped backwards with a startled gasp. Death wasn’t a new sight for him at this point, but he was certainly unused to _this_. He felt a bit queasy watching the man and turned aside quickly, focusing instead on the now visible archer. Elven, huh. City elf, by the looks of her. With the bow, her relaxed posture and grin reminded him a little of his younger sister, Andri.

“You heard it, right? Just say ‘what.’ Rich tits always go for more than they deserve.”

The woman - girl? She looked young, but Astra couldn't be sure how young - walked over and plucked the arrow off the dead man’s face and stuck it back into her quiver like this was an everyday occasion for her. She was clearly used to this, maybe even taking joy in it.

Then she turned to Astra, a grin on her face. “So, you’re the herald thingy, you glow, or something?” At a second glance, her face fell to a frustrated frown. “Aaaaand, you’re an elf. Should’ve known. Well, let’s hope you’re not too elfy!” She dragged the words along like a chain, looking disappointedly at Astra, her frown only deepening as she spotted Solas standing right behind him. He could read her disappointed thoughts just from her face alone, along the lines of ‘ugh, more elves’.

Astra felt just as disappointed by her comment as she seemed to feel about the significant elven presence in the group. “What’s it to you if I am? I seem to notice you’re an elf too. Doesn’t that make both of us ‘elfy’?” He flicked a finger towards her wryly, though he didn’t fail to notice her shooting an offended glare at him.

“Was just hoping you don’t have a stick up your butt like the rest, but I guess that ship’s sailed.” She scoffed, making Astra vividly think of the teenagers in the clan, rebellious and smart-mouthed. He bit his tongue to keep from saying that out loud. He’s not that old himself either, and he certainly had a rude strike here and there. ...Thirty-one wasn’t old. Having a five-year-old back home made him feel a bit old, though. _Creators, idiot, stop that line of thought, focus._ Astra reluctantly shook himself out of that line of thought.

“Any chance I could get your name before we go on, or are you going to be like that guy, assuming I know everyone?” He sighed, leaning onto his staff. The girl seemed to cheer up at that, her ears flicking back as sounds of footsteps and clanking began to sound from behind the closed doorway ahead.

“Later! They’ve got reinforcements coming! But no worries, I stole their supply room key!” She called out, laughing brightly as she ducked behind the crate pile. Astra decided she wasn’t too bad after all, just for that.

“I took all their breeches!”

His face fell, hoping he’d misheard through her turning away as she was speaking. But no, soon Astra was staring stunned at the incoming soldiers, legs bare and embarrassed but somehow still willing to fight. Sweet Andruil, this was embarrassing to watch.

“...You couldn’t have taken their weapons?” Cassandra deadpanned, the first words she had said since the meeting had begun. She clearly wasn’t fond of this little adventure. Astra stood still, not even bothering to properly take shelter as he watched one of Solas’ ice spells send a man slipping into another, shrieks sounding out as they fell onto the freezing cold ground. The other elven mage let out a very tired-sounding sigh afterwards, while Varric on the other hand looked absolutely delighted by the entire situation, cackling alongside the new arrival. He’d find this good story material, most likely.

The girl looked surprised by their lack of enthusiasm. “Now what’s the fun in that? Plus, you can sell the breeches, money’s always good, isn’t it?” 

“...Sure.”

Once the soldiers were taken care of (and a bag of breeches awkwardly collected), Astra turned back to the elven girl, folding his arms. “So you’re the friend of Red Jenny? Or Red Jenny herself? How does that work, exactly?”

The girl snorted in laughter and nodded. “Well, yeah. There’s more than just me. Name’s Sera.”

“Astra.” He muttered in response. “So, what exactly are the friends of Red Jenny? What do your people do? Who are they anyway, other elves?”

“Psh, no, people-people. Not elves.” Sera scoffed, then shrugged. “It’s simple really, if you’re not trying to take all day on it. There’s a few Jennies here and there in almost every town. Little people, not nobles.” 

He couldn’t deny his interest, though her methods here had raised more questions than he’d expected to have. He motioned at her to continue.

“When someone small says their boss is nasty to the servants, the word travels with the little people. And once it does, sometimes the boss’ breeches go missing right before his stupid fancy party, and he can’t go kissy-assy with the other nobles.” She snickered. “It’s a chain of things, someone gets a laugh, someone gets fed, and someone gets paid. Sometimes it’s pranks, or if it’s really bad, it’s like this guy. Rich arses don’t bully anyone when they’ve got an arrow between their eyes.” She pointed to the man still lying dead on the ground, a smug grin on her face. “Usually it’s just pranks though.” 

Astra felt a bit ill looking at the body, so he didn’t. “Who was he?” 

“No idea. My people just said you should take a look. I came here because I want to join your glowy business.”

Astra sighed, shaking his head. “You didn’t even know who he was, and now he’s dead? How do you know-”

“I just told you, the little people talk. It’s not that tough.” She huffed, folding her arms in mild frustration.

“I- alright. I get it.” He lifted his hand, tugging the glove up to reveal the little green slither of light, and lifted his eyes back to her with a worried expression. “I’m guessing ‘glowy business’ means this thing. You’re sure you want to get extremely close to world-ending troubles?”

“Yeah, they say you’re the herald, that your hand glows and you can close the green rifts with it. I want to join so things can go back to normal faster.” Oh, would they ever go to normal?

“Alright, but you’d better be prepared for surprises. Is it just you, or will you be bringing other Jennies?” He asked. Astra knew they needed every pair of hands available if they wanted to succeed. She seemed skilled with her bow, anyhow, it was just the way she seemed so nonchalant about it, he didn’t want to pull into danger someone who wanted to join on a whim.

“Just me, it’s no use if we’re all in the same place.” She answered swiftly, looking cheerful now that she’d been accepted into the group. 

“Are we really bringing her with us?” Cassandra spoke out hesitantly, sounding worried. Solas beside her looked almost as dubious about it as she did.

Varric on the other hand didn’t seem worried. “Come on, Seeker. She seems fun. Let the kid see if she likes us with time.”

“I’m not a kid.” Sera retorted immediately, “Shut up!”

Astra chuckled. “Yes, Cass, we’re bringing her with us. She showed she’s capable with her bow, and having the Jennies’ help sounds useful. We really need any extra hands we can get.”

“Besides, she’s free to go whenever, if she decides it’s not as glorious as she thought.” He sounded a bit bitter, not having a similar chance himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try to get future chapters out faster sdfg i've got almost 100 pages of random snippets written across the story, but it takes forever to tie them together into something that makes sense.
> 
> Sera is delightfully chaotic to write.


	7. A brief respite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief break in Haven in between Val Royeaux and Hinterlands 2.0/Redcliffe.   
> Astra makes very bad choices with snow and sleeping dwarves, but is finally starting to take more responsibility within the inquisition, if only because everyone else keeps arguing. He's starting to accept that he'll be here a while, and might as well make some proper bonds to survive better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried cramming in some conversations as bases for forming friendships, but nothing much really happens action-wise. Next chapter will be busier with that once we actually get to the hinterlands, I promise!  
> Enter: Kremsickle! I'm so happy to have him in there finally, the chargers are some of my favorites. Astra is almost as excited about them as I am.

Looking around the wooded area, the campsite was much more positive than the night before, though no less loud as it was with the arguments then. While she’d claimed to not be a morning person, Sera was up only a little past dawn with both Astra and Cassandra, who were early risers out of life-long habit. She was content talking their ears off, telling crude jokes, and was currently deep in a wild story with a few of Leliana’s scouts that had joined their breakfast setup by the fire. 

Astra was pretty sure at first she was mainly trying to shock either him or Cassandra, after all in the young girl’s eyes they probably were the ‘boring old people’ in the camp. To her disappointment though, both were used to crudely behaving teenagers. He had long since decided he was better off not listening, but it looked like the scouts and the rogue girl were getting along like a house on fire.

Varric was still dead to the world in his tent, and while Astra had thought Solas would be an early riser based on his general presence, the man took his time savoring any chance for sleep. Not that there was any harm in it, Astra liked naps just as well as anyone else. He was simply too used to either waking up on his own early in the morning, or being woken by his siblings as they left their shared aravel for an early morning hunt.

If his dreams held adventures in the fade as well, perhaps he’d be inclined to sleeping later. Astra was a mage, yes, but sadly there were no somniari abilities in his repertoire so far.

Some time later Varric too woke up to all the noise and engaged the group of cheerful rogues in a tale of his Kirkwall adventures, calming down the chaotic mood just a little bit as he enjoyed his cup of morning coffee, brewed over the fire. The rest of the travelers were up and eating not too long after, and began packing the camp away and into the waiting carriages.

Astra and Sera both started the journey by walking beside the carts with the scouts so they could enjoy the outside air and scenery. At first they were just exchanging halfhearted jabs and banter to sate their curiosity of each other, but it wasn’t too long until Astra prodded a bit too intently about her background in the city, and Sera roughly commented on her dislike for his dalish upbringing and strongly elven opinions in turn. Overall, neither of them came out of the conversation very happy to continue.

But by the time they neared Haven, both of them had migrated into the cart and found a common tune yet again. They spoke about the Jennies and their work, and Astra told her stories about the most adventurous rogues of his clan who didn’t shy away from trouble as he did. He picked ones he thought would best interest the young rogue, and avoided the most traditionally dalish tales. He wasn’t happy about it, but he was an adult, he could compromise. Despite her disinterest at the start, Sera did look taken by some of the stories, and contributed by loudly calling out what she wanted to happen next. Astra did not always appreciate her interruptions, but the cart rang with laughter for the last few hours of the journey, especially once the others joined in with their story session.

Traveling like this felt closer to home. He couldn’t help but feel that way while sitting in the midst of boxes, surrounded by people and chatter. He could close his eyes, feel the swaying of the cart, and pretend the half-familiar voices were his family traveling across the plains of the Free Marches in their aravels. Ignoring of course that if he were truly home, he’d be outside, helping the other mages and the halla keepers handle the aravels through tough terrain.

Honestly, the deep ache as he thought of home made him not want to open his eyes again but once he did, he felt he was tentatively ready to try and truly get to know these people as well. They were growing as an inquisition, and if he kept his distance from everyone, he would be truly alone in the lingering chaos. And as a person who’d grown into a large, tight community, he knew being disorganized and unfamiliar could set them to a path of failure.

Speaking of paths. 

Scout Harding had suggested that once they restock in Haven, they should return to the Hinterlands to meet with the horsemaster (and take care of any remaining rifts in the area for the refugees’ and farmholds’ safety). After this journey to Val Royeaux and back by slow, clunky carts, Astra was wishing they’d already seen to it on their last visit. They could let the supply carts move at their own pace, and have the actual exploring party ride ahead on their own horses. How useful that would be. He was a bit nervous about riding a horse himself, since he’d always traveled with his feet steadily on the ground, but… he was open to the idea. Yes. It couldn’t be too different from handling hallas, could it?

Last time they had mostly focused their journey to the Crossroads and the northern side of the Hinterlands where the strange cult had resided, as well as found Hyndel, the refugee’s son he had promised to take a detour for. Fortunately the detour had been worth it, since the rift within the fort gave them business there anyhow. After some persistent prodding from both Astra and Solas, the boy had even returned home himself with the medicines for his mother. Hopefully the little family was doing better now.

Aside from the places they visited last, he was quite sure the rest of the Hinterlands was still quite full of lingering chaos from the rogue templars and mages. They would have to be careful.

\---

It was late when they finally reached Haven, but Astra followed Cassandra into the chantry while their other companions spread out into their own sleeping spaces, Varric staying at the tents near the gate, and Solas wandering off towards the apothecary houses. Sera, having never been to Haven before, simply settled in the tavern for now, called by the warmth and chatter. With their rather late arrival here they wouldn’t be leaving again until the next evening, to give the animals and the carriage handlers enough time to refresh and recover. 

It seemed Lady Vivienne had not yet arrived, but Astra was sure Sera was going to make herself known loud and clear once she’d had a full night’s sleep. Recruiting both may turn out somewhat chaotic, but, well. The more the merrier, and the better their chances to succeed, he decided. The inquisition would not be a boring place, that was to be sure.

The advisors were waiting inside the chantry hall already. Astra noted the lack of Chancellor Roderick this time, to his relief. He didn’t truly hate him, but the clergyman was extremely tiring to be around. The advisors he was glad to see, though he had to admit he was still tentatively wary around the commander. Cullen didn’t seem as threatening in person as the imaginary presence of a templar in his head, which helped Astra be civil with him without running away, but he just couldn’t get the reflex of keeping his distance to leave his mind. The man hadn’t done anything to call for such cowardly action so far, so Astra kept his feet steadily put where he stood.

“Welcome back.” Josephine approached them, smiling tensely though not unkindly. “We heard of Val Royeaux, I’m glad to see you all back safely.”

“You heard?” Cassandra paused by the door, surprised. They’d just arrived.

“My scouts sent back word, of course.” Leliana’s smile held a tinge of amusement as she approached them behind the rest. “Things seem to be turning for the chaotic, if what they tell me is accurate.” She glanced at them for confirmation, and both Astra and Cassandra nodded to confirm her words with solemn glances at each other. The quick-paced events at Val Royeaux had troubled them both.

“I would never have thought the templars would march out of Val Royeaux. They’ve protected the city thus far.” Cullen spoke, frowning as he rolled his shoulders under the fur, looking mildly tired. “At least now that they’ve gathered, we know how to approach them. More renown with the nobles should get us into a powerful enough position to talk with the Lord Seeker.”

“...Do we?” Astra turned towards the commander with furrowed brows and confusion written clear on his face, not quite sure if he followed his line of thought.

To his surprise, Cassandra spoke up as well. “The Lord Seeker is not the man I remember. It is troublesome, not knowing what he is planning with the templars. We will want to approach carefully.” He was glad to hear she’d at least taken that to heart, despite still clearly disagreeing with his choice.

“We must decide soon, or it will be too late. The templars and the mages both will not wait on us forever, nor will the breach.” Josephine sighed as she glanced over, seeing their conflict. 

“It’s a risk to approach the rebel mages, it could be a trap.” Cullen argued, and Cassandra nodded, though more hesitantly than before. Josephine on the other hand did not look convinced. 

“The same could be said for the templars, commander.” She retorted, looking sullen, and Astra glanced at the commander once more only to see a matching frown on his face. 

“We  _ must _ decide soon.” She added, folding her arms tiredly. It was quite late, they were all tired.

Astra found himself in a quiet moment as the advisors were considering their choices, and decided to speak up, hesitant fingers shifting to touch his wrist as he breathed out.

“...I’ve promised Grand Enchanter Fiona a meeting at Redcliffe.”

He could see honest surprise in the faces of Cullen and Josephine and faint frustration in the face of Cassandra, but Leliana looked as though she already knew. Well, with the scouts bringing word back, she probably did, and was simply waiting for him to bring it up. He was surprised she hadn’t told the others yet. Was she testing him?

“I aim to keep that promise, though I’ve agreed to no more than to listen to her. Regardless, it’s our strongest chance for contact to either side right now, is it not?” He folded his arms, throwing an intent look at Leliana, who nodded with a little smile edging at her mouth, giving him way to continue. “We’ll be heading back to the area for the horsemaster anyway, either the exploring party passes through Redcliffe with me afterwards or I go alone, I don’t care which. You’ve told me it’s dangerous to leave the inquisition’s watch, but that I am free to leave at my own risk. Whether the inquisition comes with me is your choice, but I will be going.” Before they could protest, he added, lifting his green-glowing fist to his chest and glancing at Cassandra, “Don’t worry, I’ll come back. I’ve got the responsibility for this, after all. I won’t take your tool away.”

He stared defiantly at the advisors, his nervousness having steadily vanished as he went on with his argument. Speaking steadily like this made him feel more like the First of Lavellan again, rather than a half-prisoner, half-agent who is free only in technicality. They didn’t have a leader anyway, so why shouldn’t he use the chance to stretch his legs, figuratively speaking? Leliana, at least, looked pleased with his idea. Proud, even.

Josephine seemed startled but recovered quickly, as expected of a quick-minded ambassador. “O-of course we will send people with you, Lavellan! You are our agent, going on a mission for our cause.” She huffed out a breath, turning to the others with determination in her eyes once more, and a little smile on her lips. “This is certainly a surprise, but having an open way to meet the mages will benefit us greatly, especially if they are open to offering their cooperation.”

“Well, that settles that, then.” Cullen sighed. “I’ll keep an eye on the templars’ movements just in case we come back to them. This is good, I suppose, but I wish you’d asked us before promising such things. Small promises can easily be twisted into big trouble.” He didn’t look too upset despite his words, and what prickliness came through in his words was mild at best. 

Astra nodded, giving a little wary smile. “I know. Sorry. Fiona approached us as we left Val Royeaux, and I had to take the chance. I’ll talk with you before we go, so we can plan the meeting at Redcliffe a little bit, at least.”

“You  _ had to _ take the chance?” Cassandra commented from his side, looking rather put off. Astra rubbed at his eyes and let go a deep breath, rolling his eyes.

“Fine. I  _ wanted to _ take the chance. I’m a mage, I’m sure you’re not that surprised I want to talk to my own.” he snapped at her.

“You’ve never even stepped foot into a circle, yet they’re ‘your people’? Taking unnecessary risks is-”

“Stupid, I know, but at least with them I know what to expect, how to-”

“Maker's breath, you two! We’re not here to bicker like children.” Cullen spoke up, throwing them both a frown so deep that they both shut up, staring at the floor like scolded schoolchildren. “We’re done here, I believe. Go get some rest.” They both mumbled apologies to the advisors and stood a little bit further apart afterwards. Astra truly felt childish after a moment’s pause, but when he raised his gaze up, Cassandra was gone, and Cullen and Josephine were leaving as well, their business completed for the night.

Before he could leave, Leliana approached Astra once more, taking his attention with a light hand at his arm. He turned to acknowledge her as she spoke.

“You almost sounded like dear Tabris there, for a moment.” She smiled. “Amya would like you, if she saw you talking like that.”

Astra chuckled dryly. “Was she prone to arguing like a child as well?”

Leliana giggled behind her palm, her eyes mischievous. “Well, it would ruin her good reputation if I told you the truth, wouldn’t it? But no, I meant before that. You said you were raised to be the keeper’s apprentice, yes? You have experience leading your people. You’ve been shy about things, understandably, but it’s good to see where that skill lies.”

Astra winced a bit, thinking. “I... yes, but it’s a very different kind of leadership than what you’re doing here, with the commander and Josephine. I don’t think people appreciate my choices of late, anyhow. I'm giving the travel party a lot of detours lately.” He mused, shrugging, and frowned a little as Leliana laughed in response.

“Oh, Lavellan, you cannot find a choice that would please everyone, you’ll learn that rather quickly. Keep making those decisions, the people you do them for will remember. We lack a proper leader, but we must take action rather than let the movement stagnate as we argue amongst ourselves.” She paused, before looking him in the eyes once more. “But we are distracted. I had one more issue to speak with you, regarding your return to the Hinterlands.” She looked serious, so Astra simply nodded at her to continue. 

“I have been in contact with the Grey Wardens of Ferelden for quite a while now. I know quite well how they may encounter various secrets in Thedas.” She looked a bit sly, and Astra remembered their earlier conversation about her role in the blight. He nodded. 

“I guess something’s happened then, if it’s become an issue?”

“Indeed. Around two months ago, before the conclave, all communication ceased. I contacted the Orlesian Wardens after that, but they have gone silent as well.” She looked troubled, but quickly focused on pulling out a letter from her scouts and folding it open. Astra frowned, a troubled look crossing his face. She held the letter out at him, and he looked it over in his hands quietly.

“There has been word of a solitary Warden in Ferelden. It seems Warden Blackwall has settled near Lake Luthias to recruit from the nearby farmholds. I have spoken my worries to the others, but they’ve ignored them. Ordinarily I would not even consider the Wardens to be at fault, but the timing  _ is _ suspicious.” She gave him a pointed look.

He nodded, folding his arms as he answered with a focused expression. “If I have the chance, I’ll seek him out. We should question him, and if he doesn’t know what’s going on with the other Wardens, he may be able to guide us to someone who does.” He paused, perking up as he remembered something. “Before I left for Val Royeaux, you mentioned you hadn’t heard from Tabris in a while. Has any word come in? ...I-I’m not saying she’s-” He faltered, a bit flustered as he realized how suspicious he sounded of the Hero of Ferelden. Leliana chuckled at his sudden change in demeanor.

“No, I’ve heard nothing in months, not since before this. I do hope she and Zev aren’t involved in any Warden troubles, but it’s impossible to say.” She paused, and smiled at him. “Amya is not the kind to try and destroy the world, after saving it once already. But I do worry for her. I hope this Warden Blackwall can shed some light to what is going on.” She held out her hand. “You will meet him, I hope.”

“Of course.” He smiled, taking the hand and squeezing it in confirmation. “I’ll let you know what I find out.”

\---

The rest of the night was calm and quiet, and while Astra was certainly an outdoors-person by nature, he did enjoy the chance to sleep one night under warm blankets rather than freezing in the cold Fereldan air. Tomorrow they would be setting out again, so camping would continue soon enough. 

In the morning, he woke up early and refreshed, took a moment to sit by the little fireplace and asked the dalish Creators to bring safety to his clan and to himself. He spoke his quiet greetings to the ones who already passed, as he did in the mornings he could find a moment alone. He did not pray for the inquisition’s people, as he would be there to look after the ones he traveled with himself, and they could pray to their Maker themselves. He wanted no part in that.

Afterwards he braided his hair, dressed into a warm cloak, and walked to the front of Varric’s tent. He brewed some strong tea in the bright rays of the morning sun, and having long learned the lesson of  _ not _ going into his friends’ spaces unannounced, instead picked up a handful of cold snow and tossed it through the slip of a doorway into the tent. After the startled yelling had quieted down, Astra called out for the dwarf to join him for a hot drink. 

He gained a handful of wet snow to his face for it after the dwarf had gotten dressed and climbed out of his tent, but it was worth it, as soon they were both laughing and drinking tea, telling jokes over the fire.

“You’re a villain of the worst kind, making a simple writer get out of bed this early.” Varric huffed, the warm air turning to mist in front of his face.

“It’s good for you, you know.” Astra teased, “Getting up early once in a while. Now you have all day left to do things!”

“Disgusting. I get enough things done in my normal day routine, thank you very much. How do you do this every day, Grey?” 

Astra’s expression turned to disbelief as he ran a hand through his hair, finally realizing the nickname he’d gained. “I am  _ not  _ grey. And it’s easy if you live with the dalish, comes with the environment,” he hummed, before coughing lightly to hide a laugh. "Partly also with the five-year-old that wakes up at unholy hours of the morning. Even when she sleeps with her mother, she still wants to come wake me up as well." He deadpanned.

“I’m not saying you’re going grey, it’s far too early for that. You just felt a bit gloomy in the early days, understandably. I suppose it doesn’t fit so well anymore, maybe another nickname would do better. Purple for your spells maybe?” Varric replied, followed by an embarrassed mumble from Astra into his mug. “Anyway, I’m not dalish, am I? We dwarves need our sleep. Your kid sounds like a wonderful little menace, though.”

“Alright, I’ll let you sleep next time, that way you can’t bully me. Can I still use your tea pot though? You’ll miss out on the warm drinks.”

“Sure, Green.” 

“You’re just listing colors now.” Astra grimaced. “And that’s just this-" He held out his hand and tugged off the glove, revealing the green glowing mark. “But I could go with red, it’s a favorite if you couldn’t tell.” He smirked and motioned with his hands at his face, both covered by dark red curves of vallaslin. "But why not pick something that isn’t a color?”

“Ahh, it would fit Nightingale or the new kid better. But now that you mention  _ that _ , maybe ‘Handy’ would be good.” Varric smirked contently over his drink as Astra groaned into his mug, honestly looking like he was an inch from drowning himself in the bitter tea.

“Please, no. I’ll take the tackiest color, if you just never call me that.”

“I’ll keep brainstorming, Handy.”

“ _ Mala Suledin Nadan,” _ he whined under his breath. “Varric,  _ please.  _ I’m sorry about the snow, I swear!”

\---

Not too long later, Astra left the gates to walk around the frozen lake to explore the bounds of Haven. Being back from Orlais was nice. He'd slept well, had a questionably good morning chat with Varric, and tonight they were heading back towards the Hinterlands where its beautiful woods and hills waited. And Redcliffe, with the rebel mages.

Deep in thought, he grabbed handfuls of evergreen leaves from nearby bushes to have something to do with his hands, and startled at the crunch of snow beside him. He’d have missed it, had it not been so silent outside at this hour. Expecting a person, Astra was instead met by the dark staring eyes of a young ram.

Looks like he wasn’t the only one on an early stroll. The creature was staring intently at the leaves of the bush behind him, and Astra almost laughed at the intensity in its eyes. He was clearly in the way of some sort of important quest.

“You want these?” He whispered under his breath, trying not to scare the animal off with his voice. Holding out the leaves he’d just picked off the bush, he crouched down carefully with his arm stretched out steadily. Perhaps the ram was too young to fear people or simply too hungry to leave, but it actually came closer, settling beside the elf to warily eat from the bush. It did not touch the leaves in his hand, so he simply tossed them in front of the animal, where they soon disappeared into its mouth. 

Leaning an elbow onto his knees, he rested his face on his hands and watched the animal for a moment. A sense of childishness came over him and he reached out a hand to pet the creature, speaking out with a low soft voice in his native dalish tongue. Nobody would know if he baby-talked a ram out here, after all.

It startled at his touch, and before Astra could react with more than a sharp breath, the ram turned to butt its head and small horns at what would have been his legs, had he been standing up. Unfortunately, right now the ram careened right at his midsection. With a startled oof, he fell back at the collision, his feet slipping on the icy ground as he fell sideways into the snow with a thud and a noise of air leaving his lungs suddenly. Though he didn’t see it with half his face currently in the snow, he heard the ram jump over his prone form and run away. Once he was sure it was no longer in headbutting distance, he sat up wiping at his face and groaned loudly in frustration, hoping nobody saw his flailing.

To his dismay, someone did indeed bear witness to his fall. Hair and clothes damp from the quickly melting snow, he sat up and saw Josephine approaching from the gates in a near-run, her face a mixture of alarm and amusement, the latter appearing once she saw he wasn’t hurt. When he hadn’t stood up by the time she reached him, she held out a hand for him. It was slippery, and he’d rather not repeat the blunder, so he took it gratefully.

“Seems the tales of dalish elves being friends to all animals is not in fact true. You are alright, I hope?” She spoke softly with a smile, pulling the large cloth over her shoulders closer with her free hand. It was clear she was joking, so he took the words with an amused smile.

“No, not quite true, though I wish it were that easy,” he drawled. “Did you need something? Varric was just complaining it was too early to be up and about, but I wouldn’t know.”

She laughed lightly. “Oh, he is certainly right. But early mornings are more productive, aren’t they? As for needing something, no, I was simply about to come say hi, when you decided to make closer acquaintances with the ground.” She smiled, soft mischief glinting in her eyes.

“Mmh. Just enjoying the snow. There’s not much to do in Haven, can you imagine?” He laughed, determinedly bypassing his embarrassment.

She giggled. “That is true, it is not the most exciting of places. But I quite like it, even if it is very cold compared to my home in Antiva.”

“Definitely colder than the Free Marches, too.” He commented, grinning. “Harritt makes really good winter clothes though. Just can’t really stop the face from freezing.” He chuckled, rubbing at his snowy cheek, which felt extremely cold to the touch now. “I don’t like the cold, but I do like the snow, it’s pretty. If it wasn’t so cold, I’d be tempted to lay down in it once more.”

“Oh, the Herald of Andraste making snow angels? The people would be scandalized!” Josephine teased, making him snicker alongside her at the thought.

“The thought of their faces is very tempting. Alas, I am freezing.” He spoke softly, an amused grin on his face, and shivered exaggeratedly. As he did that, he realized he truly was quite cold, now that the snow was setting into the fabric, and gave another shudder, this time for real. 

“Oh, dear. We should get you back inside, lest you become sick right before your trip to Redcliffe. Here, you can have this-” She was about to remove the large cloth from around her shoulders and give it to him, but Astra pushed her hand back, shaking his head. 

“It’s fine, Josie. It’s not that far.”

She huffed at the rejection mildly, but wrapped the cloth back around herself. However, afterwards she opened one side of it and held it out at him, expectantly. The large blanket could easily fit two, if not even three people. Astra couldn’t help but huff out a laugh as he took the edge of the fabric, and stepped to gather himself into the warmth as well. 

“Fine, we’ll share. And not a word of that flailing to anyone in Haven, okay? I’d rather keep my dignity, or what’s left of it.” He grimaced, knowing he would never hear the end of it from some of his companions.

She giggled and held onto her side of the blanket with both hands to keep it close to her, now that the other side was no longer at her side. “Of course, serah Lavellan. My lips are sealed.” They walked a bit apart, still unfamiliar enough despite their growing friendship that it would feel like intrusion to be side-to-side. But to be fair, Astra already considered her a friend, despite having known her for less than a month. She was a warm presence in Haven, which the little village desperately needed, in his opinion.

He considered a fair amount of people here friends by now, which to think about it now, almost made him pause in shock. His thoughts went back to Varric, Solas, the young servant girl Cea, Leliana, and now Josie. He hadn’t been here for long, and still couldn’t get along with some people, but he’d actually found those he enjoyed the company of and who he could trust. It was not home, and he wasn’t sure he even wanted it to be, but staying here was a bit easier than at the start, especially now that he could send letters to his family. He hoped a reply would arrive by the time he returned from Redcliffe. 

While he thought silently, Josephine spoke up curiously.

"I wanted to ask earlier, about your stay in Haven. You're in a very public position with the mark and the responsibility it brings, and the people love to gossip. I hope they have not been unkind to you."

Astra shrugged. "I mean, I can handle stares. Nobody's called me names so far, at least not since the first day. It's a bit of a surprise, really. Though I have to admit it’s equally uncomfortable being seen as a herald..." He trailed off into a simple breath, glancing around at the scenery to collect his thoughts.

"Good, good. I'll keep an ear out for rumors, there have unfortunately been a few, though it seems they've avoided you so far. As for that, well..." She gave him a sympathetic glance. “The people need a beacon of hope, and they have latched onto you. I am sorry it is in such a way.”

"I'm not surprised, truly. But you say there’s rumors? Tell me, do they think I'm going to curse them, or steal their children?" He deadpanned, half-humorously.

"Ah, well, nothing more believable than that, at least. It has all been quite wildly over-exaggerated." She huffed out a laugh, sounding relieved.

"They tell even wilder things in the Marcher cities, or so the traders tell me,” he chuckled. “But in all honesty, the people who spread those tales are the first to raise a sword at someone with pointy ears. My clan has defended from them quite often."

"Oh, dear. I-I did not know. I must curb the rumors at once.” A determined fire appeared in her eyes, and she went quiet for a moment, expression thoughtful as though planning her actions for later. Soon, she turned back to him, curiosity returning. “...Do the mages of your clan do the defending? I’ve heard the dalish are rarely seen, unless you walk into the camps yourself. I imagine skilled magic can be rather useful in keeping people out."

Astra waved his palm up, in a so-so motion and grimaced lightly. "Rarely. We're kind of the last resort, we don't bring magic to public sight if we can help it. It’s a known secret the dalish have apostate mages, and we only stay safe from the templars if we keep it out of their sights.” He spoke, sounding as though he was reciting a lecture from the keeper. “For fighting we have warriors and hunters protecting the camp perimeter. My older brother is one of them, actually. Yuni is the first and last thing most bandits see of our clan, but he's a softie in his off-time." He smiled, a hint of pride and mischief in his voice.

She giggled. "He sounds delightful. I do hope you can meet your family again soon."

“Me too. I miss them a lot. The clan’s kids are probably bored out of their minds now that they’ve lost an entertainer.” He joked, though there was a solemn undertone to his words. “I’ve always been better with the young ones than with adults. They’re much less serious about life, it’s a nice atmosphere. And they like me because I play along with them, and can do this-” He raised a palm and let a bit of purple lightning jump across his fingers, laughing under his breath. “Kids are easily entertained.” 

Josie was smiling again by the time he ended his little monologue, and Astra found himself rather cheery as well, pleasantly warmed by the laughter despite the freshly melted snow on his clothes. 

They stopped at the little log house he stayed in, and Astra returned his side of the blanket to her with warm thanks as he went in to change into dry clothes, soon feeling ready to return to the chilly outside air once more. His hair was still wet from the snow, so he unbraided it and let it hang free over his shoulders. Hopefully it wouldn’t freeze into icicles.

Josephine had disappeared back into the chantry in the meantime, likely to get started on her ambassador’s work for the day. Wanting to keep his promise to the advisors, Astra spent the rest of his morning reading old books within the chantry, waiting for everyone to get their breakfasts and gather before visiting them in the war room. Besides, he could use the refreshment on Fereldan traditions, even if the texts were a bit old.

Planning with the advisors took a few hours and some tense arguments, but in the end he could confidently say they had a plan of action for his visit to Redcliffe. At least a general blueprint for what to ask for and what to offer. Afterwards, as they spread out to the hallway once more, he’d planned to go to the tavern for a hot drink now that he still had time, but an unfamiliar voice interrupted his journey at the doors of the chantry. For a moment he dreaded another scene like before they’d left for Val Royeaux, but this only sounded like one person.

“Excuse me! Can someone  _ please stop for a moment _ ? I have a message for the inquisition!” The frustrated voice came from behind the corner, right beside the doors. Cullen passed Astra with curiosity on his face, and opened the doors wider. This revealed a young man in armor, unfamiliar to any of them, looking relieved to finally be noted if the way his posture straightened instantly, was to go by.

“Who are you?” Astra asked, stepping forward, admittedly curious. 

“Cremisius Aclassi, sir, second in command of the Bull’s Chargers. I’ve been trying to get someone to listen to me for  _ ages _ , but everyone’s just walking past. Your people are either very busy, or I’ve suddenly become invisible.” The young man sighed. “I’ve got an offer from the leader of our mercenary company, the Iron Bull.”

Cullen spoke up, sounding tentative, but hopeful, “Tell us, then. I am the commander of our forces, Cullen Rutherford, and this is the Herald. What is this offer he’s giving us?” Astra held in a sigh, peeved at his name being yet again bypassed in favor of the title he’s been trying to deny. He was sure the young man noticed his momentary frown, but gave no comment on it.

The young man brightened up considerably at the introductions and gave a little nod at both of them. He started out a bit uncertain, glancing between them, but soon his voice grew proud and steady, showing experience and a fond trust with his comrades. “Yes sir! Um, the Iron Bull is offering you the hire of his mercenary company, the Bull’s Chargers. We’re the best you’ve got on this side of Thedas, we work across Ferelden, Orlais, Nevarra and the Free Marches. If you’d like to see us at work before deciding, we’ll be at the Storm Coast in a week’s time.” 

“Interesting, it’s not far from the Hinterlands either, you could head there after the horses are secured and you’ve met with… er, the contacts.” Cullen commented, glancing at Astra, who nodded eagerly, mouthing an agreement to him. Astra didn’t have much experience with mercenary groups, but he liked the impression he got from this young man, for sure. 

With a little smile, Cullen folded his arms and met the young man’s eyes. “Tell me about your company, ser Aclassi. Who exactly is the Iron Bull, and why should we hire you?” 

“Krem is fine, serah. The Bull’s one of those qunari people, you know, the big horned ones?” He motioned with his hands in a horn-shaped wave at the side of his head. “He’s a good one, takes care of his people, and always leads from the front. A bit of a strong personality, but if you can take care of yourself, he’ll respect you and yours.” A nod towards Astra and the people within the chantry hall. “I’d suggest you come see us at work to best know what you’re getting. We’re a pretty small but well-rounded group with many kinds of skill sets aside from just brute force. Very good at improvising, and we can split up into smaller teams if needed. We’ve got a lot of experience in discreet jobs, believe it or not. Got lots of stories to tell, if you want examples.” The young man - Krem, grinned proudly with amusement in his eyes, which instantly warmed the group in Astra’s mind, and he couldn’t help but grin back a little.

“I definitely want to see this group.” The elf commented, glancing with a hopeful smile at the commander, who let out a chuckle. 

“I’ll let Leliana know, we’ll plan for the journey accordingly. I hope your group is as good as you say.” He nodded towards Krem at the end, looking hopeful.

“I give you my word that we’re worth it! I’ll let the boss know, once I get back to the Storm Coast. He’ll be glad to know you’re coming.” Krem laughed, seeming happy. “I… might need to stay the night though, if you don’t mind. The merchant carriage I came with isn’t leaving until tomorrow. I’ve got a tent and supplies though, you won’t even notice me.” He held his hands up, grinning out of relieved joy, still. Astra hummed with a little smile lingering on his face, thinking something over.

“You could always travel with us, we’re heading out to the Hinterlands within the next few hours. We’ll stop for the night at a town just out of the mountains to grab more supplies, and continue in the morning. There’s sure to be more carriages in the Crossroads that you can take to continue ahead while we go on our business in the area.” He offered, hearing a hum of confirmation from the commander. The young man blinked in surprise, but considered it for a moment.

“Huh. I suppose that would work, if you don’t mind it. I could tell you more about the company on the way, and I’ve got a free pair of hands to help out with the supply run.” He wiggled his hands a bit in the air, as emphasis. “The Boss will be happy to have me back sooner anyway, I think. I’ll go tell the merchants they don’t need to wait for me, then I’ll be ready to go!” He gave one more quick bow of his head before running off, leaving Astra and Cullen standing by the doors sharing a look of fond amusement.

“Seems like a good kid. I’m certainly hopeful for a company that has people like that. Hopefully they won’t be too expensive for us.” Astra commented.

“As do I. We need more soldiers in our ranks so we don’t spread ourselves too thin. If they’re as good as he said, I’ll happily have them in Haven.”

“Mhm. Well, I’ve got a few things to settle before we go, I’ll head out.” Astra gave a little wave over his shoulder as he walked off. Perhaps he still had time to get that drink. It would be nice to feel warm before the journey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mala suledin nadan = and now I must endure (used here as a sort of lighthearted "I'm so tired of your shit, Varric")
> 
> (I'm struggling to come up with a proper nickname for Varric to call Astra, since I no longer feel like Grey fits him so well, it was better in the early character design days. I'm thinking of "Stories/Story" since he's constantly telling them, or "Sparks" but it's a bit too close to Sparkler (then again, that'd be cute, lmao). 'Handy' is a canon nickname that makes me laugh so I had to include it.)


End file.
